In the Space of a Journey
by Sonya
Summary: AU. UC. Destiny Lost, Part 3. Something's up with the Watcher's Council and the gang most go investigate. Can we say road trip? [Cowritten w Erin]
1. Prologue

Destiny Lost   
  
Title: In the Space of a Journey   
  
Series: Destiny Lost, part 3   
  
Authors: Sonya and Erin   
  
E-mail: sonyajeb@swbell.net OR carynsilver@yahoo.com  
  
Rating: PG-13   
  
Category: B/X, O/S, AU, action adventure, romance   
  
Disclaimer: We do not own Buffy or any of the original characters or ideas from the show. They all belong to Joss, Mutant Enemy, etc. All we own is our own creative genius (unless that's too strong a word :) and any characters we make up.   
  
Distribution: Regulars... SURE!!! Newbies... ask and you shall receive!   
  
Feedback: Love it, want it, need it! (But no flames please.)   
  
Spoilers: none   
  
Author's Note: Well, here we go with part three! Please tell us what you think!   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Prologue   
  
The plane landed with a gentle bump and began to taxi toward the hanger. Doyle stared out his window at the grey, foggy, England air and wondered again why he was here. Of course, he knew the reason why he'd come -- another vision of doom from the Powers that Be -- but what he really wanted to know was why it was he that had been called. After all, of all those in the vision, he'd only recognized one person.   
  
When the plane stopped and the fasten seatbelt light went off, he reached up into the overhead compartment for his carry on, shrugged into his black leather jacket and hurried off of the plane.   
  
"I can no' believe I'm here again," he grumbled to himself as he walked up the jetway. "I hate England! Despite me personal issues with the blokes that persecuted the Irish, the stinkin' smog makes yer boogers black and the freakin' cold bites through all me jackets..."   
  
"Allen! Hey, Allen Francis!"   
  
Doyle heard the call as soon as he stepped into the busy airport. He scanned the waiting crowd and saw his old friend almost immediately. He changed course, and walked over to the waving man.   
  
"Hey," Doyle said, returning his friend's firm handshake, "but it's just Doyle now, OK?"   
  
"All right," the guy agreed. They began walking toward baggage claim, and Doyle took his first look at Aidan O'Shea in over ten years. They'd grown up together in Ireland, but had then taken different paths. Doyle had gone to the United States to find his fortune which, at the time, he'd thought lay in the arms of a beautiful exchange student named Harriet. Meanwhile, Aidan had gone to England for education and a guaranteed job from a distant relative on his father's side. Over the years, Aidan seemed to have grown taller. Now Doyle came up only to about his shoulder. They both had black-Irish looks -- coal black hair, pale complexions and brilliant blue eyes -- but Aidan carried himself differently now. And he was wearing tweed.   
  
"So, how have you been, Doyle?" Aidan asked, trying out the unfamiliar name.   
  
Doyle looked up at Aidan suspiciously. "I figured it out! What's wrong wi' ye, Aidan? Yer talking like a bleedin' Englishman, and ye lost yer glasses somewhere, too."   
  
Aidan laughed. "Ten years in England taught me how to refine my accent," he admitted, "but the contacts are a recent development. I thought they would lend an air of distinguishedness."   
  
Doyle shot Aidan a look. "I don' know if I can get used ta yer new speech, Aidan. It's so odd."   
  
"I can still talk like I use ta," Aidan replied in the accent of his homeland. "But I don' think it fittin' fer a Watcher." He slipped back into his more refined English accent. "That Irish accent is too crude for my present position on the Watcher's Council."   
  
Doyle's smile faded away and his lips thinned into a tight line. He wondered what had happened to his old friend to change him so drastically. Back in the old days, Aidan would have balked at treating his heritage with such disrespect. But Doyle didn't comment on it, deciding to let the matter go. "So, where am I stayin' while I'm here, Aidan? Are there any good inns about these parts?"   
  
Aidan grinned, slinging an arm around Doyle's shoulders. "You're not staying in a hotel, my friend. I won't allow it. You're going to stay in the guest room in my flat." When Doyle seemed about to protest, he added, "I insist."   
  
After a second, Doyle gave in with a good natured laugh. "All right, but I don' know how long I'm stayin'."   
  
They paused by the baggage carousel, waiting for Doyle's other bag.   
  
"You didn't say much when you called me yesterday," Aidan said as they both peered into the maw of the baggage mechanism. "Why is it exactly that you left your beloved United States to come here?"   
  
Doyle rolled his eyes at his friend. "Now, don' get started on me home, Aidan. Ye know I won' have none o' that. But I came because I had another vision."   
  
Though they hadn't physically seen each other in over a decade, the two men had exchanged correspondence and a few phone calls (though the last actual call had been several years ago). Aidan knew of Doyle's demon heritage and the onset of the other man's painful, doom-predicting visions.   
  
"The vision directed you here?" Aidan asked.   
  
Doyle nodded, reaching down to get his suitcase as it rolled by on the moving track. "Ye were in it, Aidan. Ye were in it. Along with a bunch o' people -- mostly young 'uns -- that I don' know. Where else was I ta come? An' it's not like there's much holdin' me back there nowadays."   
  
Aidan clapped Doyle's shoulder in sympathy as they started walking toward the exit. "I'm sorry about you and Harry."   
  
"Yeah, me, too," Doyle replied, "but there ain' nothin' fer me ta do about it now." He sighed, and then consciously tried to lighten the mood. "So, where are ye takin' me fer dinner, eh? I'm starvin'! Airline food is vile."   
  
With a hearty laugh that reminded Doyle of the old version of his friend, Aidan guided him out of the airport and into a waiting cab. "I know just the place. It has lamb stew and white pudding sausage just like we used to have at home."   
  
As Aidan gave directions to the cabby, Doyle sat back with a sigh. He might not know for sure what he was doing here, but at least he would have good food and good comradeship while he waited to find out. 


	2. Chapter 1

In the Space of a Journey  
Chapter One   
  
Sunnydale High School  
(Almost Two Months Later)   
  
"Hey, Buffy! Wait up!"   
  
The shout from behind caused Buffy Summers to turn around to see who was calling her. However, she recognized the voice before she located her former boyfriend, Alexander "Xander" Harris's loping form. He caught up with her quickly and gave her his familiar lopsided grin.   
  
"Hi, Xander," Buffy greeted him with a small smile. "What's up?"   
  
"We're free! For a whole week!" Xander yelled in excitement, swinging his backpack back and forth and then tossing it up in the air in a display of exuberance. "Spring Break here we come!"   
  
"Oh, please! Some people just don't know that dramatic displays of emotion are *so* out!" a beautiful brunette said from across the hall. The comment had been ostensibly directed at the group of tittering girls clustered around her locker, but Cordelia Chase had definitely intended for Buffy and Xander to overhear it. Xander silently put his backpack back on the right way, and toned down his enthusiasm.   
  
Buffy glared at the snob queen and said loudly to Xander, "Gee, *some* people must not have gotten the memo that unaffected excitement is much more acceptable than fake boredom and 'look at me, look at me' attitudes."   
  
Just before they rounded the corner, they heard Cordelia's indignant gasp and Buffy and Xander looked at each other and burst into uncontrollable giggles.   
  
"So," Buffy said when they'd calmed down, "you're on your way to the library for Giles's 'what to pack for England in the springtime' lecture, too?"   
  
"Of course," Xander agreed, grinning. "I wouldn't miss it! It's supposed to be the end-all, be-all of travel prep courses offered at Sunnydale High. I'm just afraid I don't have enough tweed to pass the on-the-spot inspection test."   
  
Buffy gazed into Xander's chocolate brown eyes and felt herself melting. For a second she felt just the way she had the first time she'd ever seen him -- hopelessly and completely in love.   
  
"Oh, look," Xander said, softly touching her arm as they passed by the door to the basement, "my favorite place in the whole school."   
  
She gazed at the door with longing, remembering the many, steamy make-out sessions they'd had on the basement stairs. But thoughts of kissing Xander always brought her mind back to the image of him laying, barely decent (though admittedly under the influence of the evil sorcerer Nathan's magic spell), on top of Sonya behind a tombstone in the graveyard. Every time that scene popped into her head, Buffy felt the rend in her heart tearing again. (You'd think I'd be over it by now) she thought angrily. (It's not like I haven't tried, but it just hurts so much!) The touch of Xander's fingers on her arm went from pleasant to painful in a flash, and she jerked her arm away as she blinked the tears from her eyes.   
  
"Yeah, well," she said hoarsely, "as far as I'm concerned it's just a dank, dark basement."   
  
Xander looked at her, hurt shining from his eyes. "Buffy, please! Can't you forgive me yet? I swear, if I'd had any control over myself none of that ever would have happened. I'm not the type to cheat, and I'm definitely not the type to attempt rape."   
  
Buffy sniffled once before finally mastering her tears and pushing them back inside. "I forgave you a long time ago, Xander, but I just can't forget what happened. It's not like I haven't tried! I try every single day! All I want is for us to go back to the way we were before the whole Nathan thing, but every time I try, I remember seeing you and her, and the pain tears me up. If the pain is still this bad, I don't even want to think about what it would be like if it happened again."   
  
"It won't happen again, I swear!" Xander cried. "I love you, and I've been trying to make it up to you, but you won't let me in!"   
  
"I don't know how to get past this," Buffy admitted. "I try and I try but it doesn't get any better." She sighed deeply and then began to say, "This isn't fair to you. Maybe we should..."   
  
"No!" Xander said, cutting her off before she could finish. "I will *not* accept that!" And it was true. Xander knew that Buffy still loved him. He could see it written all over her face. It was up to him to find the magic key that would make things right between them again. And right now, the first step was getting her mind off the painful subject so they could try again another day.   
  
"So," he said, giving in to his own morbid curiosity, "Amy told me that Larry the jock asked you to the Spring Fling. He's staking his claim a bit early, isn't he? The dance isn't until after break."   
  
"Well, technically we could date other people," Buffy rushed to say.   
  
Xander held his hands out wide. "Of course," he agreed reluctantly, (but I didn't think you really would.) Aloud he finished the thought with, "But I didn't think the skirt-chaser type would appeal to you."   
  
Buffy looked at him for a minute, silently, while Xander thought the worst, and then she said, "I told him no." Relief buoyed Xander's soul as she added, "You're right. He's not my type." His heart lifted even more when she added, "Technically, we can date other people, and maybe eventually we will if we don't get this worked out, who knows? But right now, I'm not looking for a new relationship. I've got enough problems."   
  
"We'll work it out, I know it," Xander said just as they reached the library.   
  
"I sure hope so," Buffy replied softly, and then they went inside.   
  
Several people were already there, waiting. Giles stood in front of the circulation desk with packets of paper in his hands. He gave them a slight glare for their tardiness. Sonya sat on one side of the reading table. Oz was next to her, a few feet away from the table so there would be room for his cast. Jenny Calander and her witch-trainee Amy Madison sat at roughly the middle of the table. And there were two surprise guests -- Joyce Summers sitting on Jenny's other side and Angel sitting at the head of the table.   
  
As he scanned the room, Xander's gaze accidentally found Sonya's. She was staring at him sadly. Not wanting to think about all the pain just looking at her brought to his mind, Xander quickly averted his eyes and took the seat farthest from her, next to Angel.   
  
Looking at the vampire quizzically, he asked, "How'd you get here?"   
  
"Sewers," the souled vampire replied as if it should be expected.   
  
"They connect to the school?" Xander couldn't remember Angel being at the school in the daytime before.   
  
"In Sunnydale they connect almost everywhere."   
  
Xander had to laugh at that. And he watched as Buffy slid into the seat next to her mother.   
  
"Why did you come?" Buffy whispered to Joyce.   
  
Joyce looked around the room, and saw that everyone wanted to know the answer to that question. She took a deep breath and announced, "I'm coming with you to England."   
  
"Er... what?" Giles asked, startled.   
  
Buffy gaped at her mother. "Why?"   
  
"Because I am your mother," Joyce answered. "I may be new to this whole mother-of-a-Slayer thing, but from what I understand, this tribunal and this Council have some say over your life, Buffy, and I am NOT about to let you face that alone."   
  
"Oh, Mom! You are so... so..." Buffy started.   
  
"Interfering? Meddlesome? Annoying?" Joyce supplied.   
  
"No," Buffy said, "wonderful!" She gave her mother a big hug.   
  
"Ms. Summers," Giles began.   
  
"Joyce," Joyce corrected him. She'd had angry feelings for him for awhile after the way he'd treated Buffy during the whole evil sorcerer debacle, but Joyce decided he had paid for his unintentional sins. Now if she could just get him to loosen up a little, she might actually enjoy spending time with him.   
  
"Er... Joyce," Giles tried awkwardly, "there are not enough plane tickets. We only have six."   
  
"I'm giving her my ticket." All eyes swiveled to Amy, who blushed. Amy had wanted the chance to return to Europe, and she'd begged to be included on the mission. She shrugged. "I decided that Joyce should be able to be with Buffy, and it would probably be better if I were here to help Ms. Calander and to keep up with my magic training."   
  
Joyce smiled at Amy. She hadn't asked the girl to do this, but when Amy had made the offer the day before, Joyce had accepted it. Joyce had a soft spot in her heart for the poor, motherless girl. But then Joyce had a soft spot in her heart for all of them.   
  
"Thank you," Buffy mouthed to Amy. Amy smiled in return.   
  
"Right," Giles said, trying to regain control of the meeting. "Let's just review. Those currently going to England include ... Joyce, Buffy, Sonya, Xander, Oz and myself. Those staying in Sunnydale to watch over the Hellmouth and control the vampire population include Ms. Calander, Amy and Angel. Are there any more changes I should know about?"   
  
The librarian's obvious discomfiture at having the plans changed at the last minute showed in his every stilted word, drawing a few quickly smothered giggles from around the room.   
  
When things were quiet again, Giles continued talking, giving Sonya the packets to pass out. There were packets in navy blue folders for the trip takers and packets in maroon folders for those staying behind.   
  
"For the travelers, I've enclosed a recommended packing list, complete with anticipated weather and weight limits. Also in the folders are your plane tickets and the flight information. We will be meeting here tomorrow morning to drive to LAX, but in case of emergencies you should all be informed. In all the packets are lists of our itinerary and pertinent phone numbers of hotels and of the Watcher's Council. Any questions?"   
  
Everyone shook their heads.   
  
"I think you covered all the angles," Xander piped up. "We're question free."   
  
Sparing the boy a glance, Giles said, "You're dismissed, but, travelers, please make sure you are all here by 9 a.m. sharp tomorrow morning. We cannot be late for the plane."   
  
Most of the group started to move. Buffy stayed seated, flipping absently through her packet, but she was thinking about the letter Giles had gotten from the Council. She and Sonya had accidentally found it while Giles was in the hospital. Buffy knew he was in trouble with his superiors, and she worried about what would happen at this tribunal. She wasn't even sure what a tribunal was -- something about justice being served. But what was justice? Him being replaced for lying to save Sonya's life? Buffy would be the first to admit that sometimes she had problems with her Watcher, but all in all, he had never steered her wrong when he wasn't under an evil spell. She sighed. Worrying was getting her nowhere. She stood up, and jumped when a cold hand touched her arm.   
  
"Angel," she said, glancing up at the tall, handsome, sad-eyed vampire. "Did you need something?"   
  
"I wanted to give you this." He thrust a black leather carry-on into her hand.   
  
She tried to give it back. "I already have a carry-on. It's pink. My dad gave it to me when I was in junior high. It has sentimental value."   
  
"This one is specially designed so you can carry weapons in it," Angel said bluntly. "Stakes, knives, even a gun. There's a shielded compartment in the bottom that the X-rays can't see and the metal detectors won't detect. Just in case you need them on the plane or in the airport. You never know."   
  
Surprised, Buffy said, "Thank you. That was really nice of you."   
  
"For you, it's necessary."   
  
Before Buffy could puzzle out what he meant by that -- if niceness was necessary for her, weapons were necessary for her, or what? -- Angel moved away to discuss patrolling strategies with Jenny and Amy.   
  
The blonde Slayer looked around the room. Xander was watching her. She looked away from him quickly -- not wanting to deal with that situation any more right now. Sonya and Oz were talking quietly. (Good) Buffy thought with a nod.   
  
"Ready to go home and pack, honey?" Joyce came over and asked.   
  
Buffy nodded. "Yeah."   
  
"Hey, Buff!" Amy called before they got out the door. "Pick you up at seven for a bon voyage party at The Cellar?"   
  
"Sure!" Buffy agreed. "See you then."   
  
"Don't forget that you have to patrol once more tonight as well," Giles cautioned.   
  
"I know, I know," Buffy replied. "It's in my mental schedule." Then she linked arms with her mother and walked out to the parking lot.   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
Sunnydale oozed with evil, and she could feel it. From the back of the taxi, the girl watched people walking around with no clue of the danger that surrounded them. But she knew, and she would protect them from it.   
  
Of course, the girl knew it was too bright right now for the most obvious forms of evil to rear their ugly heads, but when they came out to play tonight, she would be ready.   
  
"Miss, do ya wanna go someplace specific, or do ya just want me to keep driving around?" The cab driver looked back at her questioningly.   
  
"Circle downtown once more, and then take me back to the motel," the girl ordered crisply, tucking a strand of mahogany-hued hair behind a well-shaped ear. She could feel the guy's eyes on her neck. She arched her back, seemingly an innocent stretch, but inside she gloried in the man's bulging eye sockets. If he was a vampire, she would have snapped his neck right where he sat -- but horny human men could be fun, and useful.   
  
The girl leaned forward and stared at the driver through the wires that separated the front and back seats. "So, baby, what do you charge, anyway?"   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
The catalyst to the end of the gathering in the library was Joyce and Buffy leaving. After that, Amy, Jenny and Angel left, too. Sonya waited until Giles and Oz were talking, and then intercepted Xander before he could make it out the door.   
  
"Harris!" she called, catching up to him by the door that connected the library to the outside.   
  
"What, Sonya?"   
  
His flat tone, and then fact that he didn't call her 'Parker' (using last names was part of friendly banter between them, or it used to be) illustrated to Sonya once again that her relationship with her former best friend was still nowhere near normal.   
  
"I just thought maybe we could talk," Sonya said, feeling her muscles tense. "We could grab a bite at Sal's?"   
  
Xander shook his head. "No, thanks."   
  
"But couldn't we...?" she started.   
  
"Not yet," Xander said. He started to go, but turned back. "I'm sorry, Sonya, but I just can't yet."   
  
"When will you be able to?" she asked bitterly.   
  
He shrugged. "I don't know. When it doesn't hurt so much."   
  
"It's because of Buffy," Sonya said matter-of-factly. "She can't forgive you, so you can't forgive me, is that it?"   
  
Xander looked guilty. "That's part of it," he admitted. "But the other part is that I have to prove to Buffy that I love her. That means that I have to be all about Buffy right now. I can't do anything that would have her suspect, even for the briefest minute, that you and I were betraying her again."   
  
"I miss you," Sonya said. When his expression shifted negatively, she hastened to add, "Not *that* way. I can say, once and for all, that I am over you, Xander. That night in your room... well, let's just say it put romance between us out of my head for good. But I miss our friendship. I want that back."   
  
Xander sighed. "Maybe someday, Sonya. I hope so anyway." And with that he left.   
  
Sadly, Sonya turned and walked back into the library proper to find Giles and Oz waiting for her. Obviously, they had seen her strike out, again. Giles squeezed her on the shoulder comfortingly, but it was Oz who spoke.   
  
"Want to get out of here?" he asked.   
  
"Yeah," Sonya replied. They walked slowly to the door -- Oz was less speedy than normal because of his crutches -- and she called over her shoulder, "See you at home, Giles."   
  
They walked/hobbled out to the van. Sonya gave Oz a hand up, and then hopped into the driver's side.   
  
"How are you feeling?" Sonya asked, giving her companion a side-long glance as she pulled the van out of the parking lot.   
  
"Curb."   
  
"Huh?" Sonya looked puzzled, and then the van thumped down over the curb and onto the street. "Oh... curb. Sorry."   
  
"S'OK," Oz replied. "Shelia can take it. And your driving is improving."   
  
"Under you and Giles's great tutelage, I assure you," Sonya said primly, then she grinned at him. "You named your van SHELIA?"   
  
"She bespoke it to me," Oz explained.   
  
"Uh...huh." Sonya kept her eyes on the road, trying to stifle a giggle. "So, where am I taking you?"   
  
"Dinner?" Oz looked at her hopefully.   
  
"Oh, I don't know," Sonya teased, "I was thinking about going home and starting my "to read" list from English class..." But she couldn't keep a straight face for long. When the chuckles subsided, she said. "Sounds great. Where?"   
  
"I know a great little taquaria down on 7th."   
  
"Cool." 


	3. Chapter 2

In the Space of a Journey  
Chapter Two   
  
The Cellar   
  
Pulsating music can drown out many things-conversation, lyrics, frightened shouts for help in darkened corners-but after only a few minutes at The Cellar, Buffy knew it couldn't drown all the pain and fear in her heart. Pain both for, and because of Xander, and anxiety about Giles and their upcoming trip on all levels-emotional, romantic, professional... Amy yelled something to Buffy over the driving beat and strident guitar chords, but Buffy couldn't hear her.   
  
"What?" she yelled.   
  
"Dance?" Amy hollered back.   
  
Buffy glanced out at the packed dance floor, and nodded. She needed to let out a little of this nervous energy. The two girls, one with long blonde hair wearing a blue dress and the other with shorter hair wearing jeans and a tank top, made their way out into the center of the floor. They danced near each other with great enthusiasm, not noticing the admiring glances they received from all over the room.   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
"Are you going to go to the party?"   
  
Xander looked over at his companion and sighed. "I don't know, Angel. It's not like it's really a 'party' party anyway."   
  
Angel raised an eyebrow. "Is there a distinction?"   
  
"Of course!" Xander filled his socially-ignorant friend in. "When Amy said 'bon voyage party' what she meant was a get together. All of us dancing our brains out at The Cellar together before most of us leave on our trip. A 'party' party is the whole deal-someone goes all out, decorations, guest list, food, etc. You might know that if you'd had more of a social life over the last hundred years!"   
  
"I don't care if this is a 'party' party, a party, a gathering, or a barn raising... you should go," Angel said in his best "big brother knows best" voice.   
  
Xander sighed deeply. "Buffy and I had another talk today."   
  
"I take it that things didn't go well..."   
  
Xander slid a glance over to the vampire-one of his best friends. But now he wasn't sure how much to say. During the whole evil-spell fiasco, Xander had figured out something very important-Angel was in love with Buffy, and had been for years. Of course, Buffy cared for Xander (or used to care for, or... Xander stopped that tangent in its tracks), and Angel had never done anything about his unrequited feelings-but the whole thing made Xander feel a bit awkward in confiding Buffy-related things to Angel.   
  
"You can tell me, Xander. It won't bother me. But if you don't want to, you don't have to." After showing that once again, he knew just what Xander was thinking, Angel fell quiet, waiting for Xander to make his decision.   
  
"The talk went fine for a while, and then Buffy clammed up on me," Xander confided. "I don't know what to do. I've been trying to make it all up to her for weeks now, and she just can't get past what happened with me and Sonya."   
  
"Granted, that did tear her heart out," Angel said mildly. "That would tend to make someone gun shy."   
  
"But it wasn't even MY FAULT!" Xander yelled in frustration. "How can I make up for something that I didn't even mean to do!"   
  
Angel shrugged. "I don't know. Have you thought about the fact that maybe the two of you should move on?"   
  
Xander glared at the vampire. "You're just saying that so you can..." The boy stopped himself. He knew Angel better than that. "Sorry."   
  
"I accept the apology," Angel said, "but it's an realisitc worry, if a false one. You don't have to worry about me, Xander. There is no part of Buffy that wants me. I've looked." Angel's grin was wry. "But there's a huge chunk of her that wants you, no matter what the road blocks."   
  
Not knowing what to say about the Buffy-Angel thing, Xander went back to the previous topic instead. "I just don't know what I should do. I don't want to move on. I want Buffy back! But the whole thing is starting to make me mad. Mad and frustrated. I just don't know what to do."   
  
Angel was silent for a moment, and then he said, "I think you should go to The Cellar and tell Buffy all of this. She's the one you should be talking to, not me. I'll keep patrolling, give you two some extra time. If nothing happens, you're no worse off than before. And maybe something will happen this time."   
  
Xander was silent for a minute, and then he turned and started jogging back the other direction to where he'd left his jeep. Over his shoulder he called, "Thanks, Dead Boy! Maybe you're right!"   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
Several songs later, when the fast music stopped in favor of a slow ballad, Amy and Buffy finally left the dance floor and made their way toward the couches that were their "usual" spot. They were tired and sweaty, but smiling.   
  
"That was fun!" Buffy said enthusiastically.   
  
"I thought it would cheer you up," Amy replied.   
  
As they walked over to their spot, Buffy noticed Sonya and Oz were there. "Looks like most of the gang is here," Buffy remarked, looking around the club anxiously.   
  
"All but one, right?" Amy asked intuitively.   
  
"Yeah," Buffy replied, "all but one."   
  
"I'm sure he'll be here," Amy assured her.   
  
"But I'm not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing."   
  
Amy pulled Buffy aside before the reached the couches. "Buffy, tell me what's going on in that head of yours. I've kept quiet and played support-o-gal because you're my best friend, and I'll always be here for you, no matter what. But I just don't understand why you and Xander aren't together again yet."   
  
"I'm stuck," Buffy tried to explain. "I'm stuck in this mire of pain, and I don't know how to get out."   
  
"I'm so not following." Amy waited for more explanation, and got it.   
  
Buffy continued, "I love him so much. Being without him hurts. But whenever I let myself be with him, after a few glorious minutes all I can think about are the bad things. His betrayal, the horrible things he said about me and to me, and him and Sonya together."   
  
"But, Buffy, it wasn't his fault," Amy said.   
  
Buffy glared, more at the subject than at her friend. "I KNOW that! Do you think I don't tell myself that every single day, because I do! That doesn't make it any better."   
  
"But you and Sonya are... well... better," Amy interjected.   
  
"I know." Buffy sighed. "It was something about that link Jenny forced on us. Seeing into each other's hearts made us able to put the bad stuff behind us, mostly. Though every time I see her talking to Xander, I still get angry... and afraid."   
  
Amy seized on the word 'afraid.' "Is that the problem? Are you afraid Xander is going to cheat on you again?"   
  
Buffy thought about that for a minute. "Maybe that's it. Maybe I'm pushing him away because if he ever did that to me again I think I would die. If I let him in again, and he ended up breaking up with me for any reason- because I know he's not the cheating type-I just don't think I could handle a repeat of that kind of pain. It was too much. I can't go through that again, Amy. I just can't." She let out a sharp breath of air, almost a snort. "Maybe I just need massive amounts of therapy."   
  
"Maybe you do," Amy agreed, but she smiled gently, and then pulled her friend into a hug. "I think you should try even harder to work things out with Xander because it's obvious that the two of you love each other, but it has to be up to you. If you need to talk about this, I'm always here for you. Even when you're overseas... call me collect if you need to."   
  
"Thanks, Amy," Buffy said, returning the hug. "You're the best. And I think if I needed to talk to you that bad, Mom would let me use the calling card."   
  
They resumed their walk over to the couches, and took seats opposite Sonya and Oz.   
  
"Hey," Oz said.   
  
Buffy noticed that he was sitting very close to Sonya.   
  
"Hey, yourself," she replied, giving him a grin. Buffy decided that on the long plane ride to England, she was definitely going to sit next to Oz for a while so she could pump him about his relationship with Sonya. Given his monosyllabic nature, she realized that would be a challenge, but it would be for a worthwhile cause.   
  
"Hi, Amy... Buffy," Sonya added.   
  
Amy and Buffy replied with muted "Heys."   
  
"So..." Sonya said in a nervous tone, "is this everyone that's here?"   
  
Everyone knew who she was asking about.   
  
"Yeah," Amy replied. "Just the four of us."   
  
"Make that five."   
  
Everyone turned to see Xander standing behind Sonya and Oz's couch. He was smiling, but looked nervous.   
  
"Hi, Xander," Sonya said softly.   
  
"Sonya," Xander replied, keeping his voice even. Then he looked at Buffy.   
  
Buffy swallowed nervously, reading his intent for another DTR (define the relationship) talk in his eyes. He opened his mouth to say something, and she quickly blurted, "I'll be right back... thirsty." Then she practically ran toward the bar on the other side of the room. Xander watched Buffy run, feeling his cheerful facade fading with her every step. He slumped down on the couch next to Amy, not saying a word.   
  
Amy jabbed him in the ribs. "What are you waiting for doofus! Go after her!"   
  
Xander stared at her for a minute, and then stood up. "Maybe you're right, Amy."   
  
"Of course, I am. Now go!"   
  
He threaded his way through the crowded club to the bar. He spotted Buffy when he was still several yards away. He paused, trying to think of a witty opening line-or at least something that wasn't too whiney or too needy. He watched her trade a few dollars to the bartender for a tiny cup of soda. He noticed the slight movement of her throat as she swallowed. Xander had about decided to make his move when someone beat him to it. A tall guy wearing a grey trench coat. Buffy looked up at the stranger, surprised. The guy leaned forward and whispered something in her ear. Buffy let out a surprised laugh. They talked a couple more minutes. Xander couldn't tear himself away. Then the guy gestured to the door. Buffy smiled up at him, picked up her purse from the top of the bar and followed him toward the door.   
  
"Damn it!" Xander shouted. A few people near him gave him funny looks, luckily the music was too loud for more than a few people to hear his outburst.   
  
"She'd rather talk with complete strangers than me! I am such a sap! Why do I keep doing this?" he muttered more softly. But someone heard him.   
  
"You look better than a sap to me..."   
  
The tickle of warm breath on his ear made Xander jerk around to see who was whispering to him. His mental jaw dropped, though he kept enough of a hold on himself not to drop his physical jaw. He stared at the girl before him. She had sleek, mahogany brown hair that curled gently about her face and shoulders. Her skin was tanned, and her lips were dark red. Dark eye brows feathered over deep brown eyes rimmed with dark lashes. Her body was wall-proportioned, and encased in something black and skin-tight. A wide belt drew attention to her hips, just as the low-cut neckline of her cat suit and the wide collar of her jacket drew attention to her good figure. The outfit was topped off by stilleto-heeled boots. This girl was the embodiment of a 'come-hither,' sexy attitude. And it was all focused on Xander.   
  
When she spoke again, her voice was husky. "I've been watching you, Xander."   
  
"How do you know my name?" Xander had enough presence to ask.   
  
"I noticed you, so I took the liberty of finding out what to call you." Her lips curled in a sexy smile. "Want to dance with me?"   
  
"I can't..." Xander answered.   
  
"What? Do you have a girlfriend or something? Because as far as I could tell, you've been alone all night..."   
  
Xander glanced toward the doorway where Buffy had disappeared with Mr. Trenchcoat. Then he looked back at the woman standing in front of him. (If Buffy can do it, I can, too) he decided suddenly. (Besides, what's the harm in a dance?) It wouldn't be a slow dance-the band had already played its token slow song for this set.   
  
"All right," Xander said aloud. "Let's dance."   
  
The girl grabbed his arm and pulled him out to the edge of the crowded dance floor. Once there, she began to dance. She danced, or rather writhed, like she did everything else... sexily. Xander felt a bit out of his league, and didn't really try to keep up. He just moved back and forth a little, throwing in a head bob or two for good measure. He glanced over to the couches and saw Amy and Oz staring at him. Sonya was looking away. He positioned himself so his back was to them. He didn't need anymore guilt trips.   
  
"So, Xander..." The girl moved close enough to shout in his ear. "...tell me about yourself. You look like you lead an interesting life."   
  
Xander pulled back enough to look into her eyes, unsure how to take that remark. He did lead an interesting life, but he wasn't about to tell her why. "I'm pretty average," he answered, then he posed his own question. "What's your name? It's not fair that you know mine, while I don't know yours."   
  
She grinned up at him, running her fingers over his chest. "Guess."   
  
A bit uncomfortable, Xander moved back a little, and then tried to guess. "Let's see... you look like a Monica."   
  
"Nope!" She spun around in respose to an exceptional guitar chord. "Try again."   
  
"Uh... Lisa?" She shook her head, so he tried again. "Connie? Marie? Theresa?" But every guess found her shaking her head. Xander began to get frustrated. He stopped dancing and moved as if to leave. "Well, whoever you are, I've really got to get going..."   
  
She grabbed his arm and wrapped it around her shoulders. Brushing her cheek against his, she talked directly into his ear. "Guess just once more? I bet you'll get it this time."   
  
Xander pulled back a little, but she didn't let go. She was surprisingly strong for a girl that wasn't Buffy. Xander knew he could break her grip if he tried, but it would take more force that he wanted to use in public. He was tired of this guessing-game, so he picked the first weird name that came into his head. "I don't know... Petunia?"   
  
Her face froze for a moment, and then she said, "You're right!" Her voice sounded hollowly cheerful.   
  
"That was right?" he asked, lifting an eyebrow. "Your name is Petunia?"   
  
Petunia leaned in close again, and said, "I told you, you'd get it this time." Then she kissed him full on the mouth.   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
Outside The Cellar, Buffy let the guy in the trenchcoat-he'd said his name was Todd-lead her into a darkened alley.   
  
"So," she babbled, "I go to Sunnydale High, but I've never seen you there. I guess you go to Calvin High?"   
  
"No..." Todd's face was turned away from her.   
  
"The how come you're hanging out in a high school club?" Buffy asked, sneaking her hand into her purse.   
  
Todd whipped his face back around, and-as she had suspected all along- it was now the ridged visage of a vampire. "Because of the easy pickings!" he growled, leaning for her neck.   
  
"Maybe you should have re-thought that strategy," Buffy replied, calmly kneeing him in the groin. Todd staggared back a step, looking at her in surprise. Buffy launched a flying kick to his midsection, and when Todd was gasping in pain, she grabbed his arm and pinioned it behind his back. "I'm assuming that you're new in town, Todd, and that's why you've never heard of the Slayer? Because if not, then my reputation among the legions of undead is slipping."   
  
Todd made an indecipherable gurgling sound. Buffy wasn't sure if it was fear or anger. Not really caring, she finshed pulling her stake out of her purse, and jabbed it into his heart. Lithely, she moved back so the falling dust didn't soil her favorite tank top.   
  
The stake clattered to the ground. Buffy picked it up, twirled it around her fingers, and put it back in her purse. "Now that the obligatory slay is over," she said to the big pile of dust at her feet, "maybe I can go inside and actually have some fun."   
  
She walked back into The Cellar, and over toward the place where they always sat. Buffy wondered if Xander was still there. She really ought to talk to him. Panicking didn't do either of them any good. When she got close enough to see the couches, she realized that Xander wasn't there. Oz was whispering something to Sonya, and Amy was staring, open-mouthed, at the dance floor. Slowly, Buffy looked in the direction of Amy's gaze and saw Xander kissing a strange girl in a black cat-suit barely covered by a chic, black leather jacket.   
  
Instinctively, Buffy began to move toward them. She reached them just in time to see Xander push her away angrily and to hear him say,   
  
"Look, Petunia, I'm not on the market for this! There's somebody else in my life..."   
  
"Oh yeah?" the girl (Petunia?) questioned, plastering herself back onto him.   
  
"I don't see her..."   
  
"She's right here!" Buffy grabbed the collar of the girl's jacket and wrenched her away from Xander. "Get your hands off of him, you slut!"   
  
"Ah," the girl said, giving her assailant a knowing gaze. "You must be Buffy."   
  
"How do you know that?" Buffy demanded, shaking the girl a little.   
  
"Yeah, Petunia!" Xander exclaimed. "You know too much! Who the hell are you?" Petunia shrugged. "Guess you'll both have to wait and see." With that, she disentangled herself from Buffy's grip with a smooth move and vanished into the throng of dancers. Buffy thought about following, but Xander stopped her.   
  
"I didn't know you cared, Buffy." There was a fragile hope in his eyes as he gazed down at her.   
  
"Obviously, I still do," Buffy replied.   
  
"You were willing to start a cat-fight for me..."   
  
"It was instinctive," Buffy said coldly. "I didn't realize what I was doing until I was standing there calling her a slut."   
  
"What does this mean?" Xander asked, gently pulling her off of the dance floor so they could talk without being run over by exuberent dancers. Buffy looked up at him, tears leaking out of the corners of her eyes. She wanted nothing more than to throw herself in his arms, but there was a little voice in the back of her mind, yelling that if she did that, she was a fool. He'd just been kissing another woman. "Tell me about her."   
  
"Who? Petunia?" Xander looked a bit embarrassed. "She asked me to dance, and then she started hitting on me. You don't think... No, Buffy, I didn't want that! The only reason I danced with her at all was that I was upset that you went off with that guy in the trenchcoat."   
  
"He was a vampire!" Buffy exclaimed. "Nothing to be jealous of. Just doing my job."   
  
"Well, I didn't know that!" Xander returned. "It's not like you tell me anything any more. Maybe you've decided you like going off to make out with strange men, for all I know!"   
  
They were both getting more and more upset.   
  
"Yeah, Xander!" Buffy said sarcastically. "I'm so hard up that I'm going to go play kissy-face with a blood-sucking fiend." She turned away, taking a few steps in the direction of the couches.   
  
"Wait!" Xander stopped her. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. But doesn't the fact that you cared enough to come over here prove that we still have something?"   
  
"I need to be alone. I need to think." Buffy pulled away from him. It was easier.   
  
"You always want to be alone!" Xander yelled. "Maybe we just shouldn't even try anymore." Buffy felt her heart begin to tear, but she couldn't stop the words that followed. "Maybe you're right. And maybe you should just go find Petunia and pick up where you left off."   
  
With that, Buffy turned her back on Xander. She saw Amy standing a few steps away.   
  
"I'm sorry," Amy said. "I came to see if you needed any help with that skank, and I..."   
  
"It's OK," Buffy said shortly. "Can you take me over to Giles's house? Now? I've got to patrol."   
  
"Sure." With a sad glance back at Xander, Amy took Buffy's arm and they walked out of the club. 


	4. Chapter 3

In the Space of a Journey  
Chapter Three   
  
The Streets of Sunnydale   
  
Angel had patrolled for hours without sighting a single vamp or minion of darkness. He checked his watch, and saw it was almost ten o'clock. Buffy had agreed to take over then.   
  
"Should I pack it in, or keep patrolling?" Angel wondered aloud. He thought about it for a couple of minutes, and then realized something. "What would I do if I did pack it in? Sit at home in the dark?"   
  
He decided to go by Giles's house, and see if the Watcher had any last-minute instructions for him before the gang left the next morning. Not that Angel always obeyed any order Giles gave, but Angel had a healthy respect for the man as a leader, and always tried to keep him in the loop.   
  
As Angel made his way to the Watcher's condo, he kept his senses on the alert for any signs of danger. But it was quiet all the way.   
  
It wasn't until Angel had almost reached his destination that he thought he heard something crackling in the underbrush. It was a very faint noise -- without his enhanced vampire hearing, he wouldn't have been able to discern it.   
  
Angel whipped around, stake at the ready, and called, "Who's back there?"   
  
There was no answer. He hadn't really expected one. Sliding the stake back into this pocket, Angel continued on his way. Maybe it had just been the wind, but in Sunnydale, Angel knew, all instincts for self preservation should be obeyed.   
  
He kept walking and listening, but the noise didn't repeat itself. However, now he had the uncanny feeling that someone, or something, was following him. He kept going, ready if it rushed him. But it never did, and that made Angel all the more worried.   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
"Are you sure you don't want to talk about it?" Amy asked for the forth time as they pulled up in front of the building where Giles and Sonya made their home.   
  
"No," Buffy replied shortly. Seeing the look on her friend's face, she softened and said, "I'm really sorry, Amy, I just can't right now. There's too much stuff swirling around inside of me. I can't make sense of it all..."   
  
"Talking might help," Amy tried one last time.   
  
Buffy shook her head. "I can't. Not right now."   
  
Amy reached over the gear shift and gave Buffy a hug. "Well, call if you need me. And have a wonderful trip -- if you can. Keep Giles safe."   
  
"I'm going to try," Buffy vowed, returning the hug. "You keep Sunnydale safe while we're gone."   
  
"We'll do our best," Amy replied.   
  
"Good." Buffy found a smile for her friend, and then ordered, "Now, you go home and enjoy one last good night of sleep before you're on patrolling duty."   
  
"All right," Amy agreed with a laugh.   
  
Buffy got out of the car, and waved as Amy drove away. Then Buffy walked up to Giles's front door and knocked. It was a mild shock to her when her Watcher answered the door in his shirtsleeves. (He really *doesn't* wear tweed all the time) she thought, hiding a smile.   
  
"Buffy..." Giles said in surprise. "Come in." He led her into his immaculate living room, where she perched on the edge of the couch. He sat down in an uncomfortable-looking wooden chair. "Is something amiss?"   
  
(More than you know) Buffy thought, but she knew he meant something Slayer-wise. "Um... no," she said aloud, "but I just wondered if there was anything special I should do since this will be my last patrol before the trip."   
  
"Ah, I see," Giles replied thoughtfully. "Well, I suppose you could swing by some places you don't normally patrol -- such as Spike and Willow's old lair..."   
  
"I'll do that," Buffy agreed. "Anything else?"   
  
"No, but be careful, Buffy," Giles warned. "I don't think anything untoward is going on there, but if you stumble upon a new vampire din, don't try and take it out by yourself. Call Angel or Sonya and I for backup. Or Xander."   
  
Buffy involuntarily winced at Xander's name, but she tried to keep herself professional. "Right."   
  
Giles's eyes narrowed behind his glasses as he looked at her. "Are things quite... er... all right with you, Buffy? You've been down as of late."   
  
She was a bit surprised that he'd even noticed. Around her, Giles was all business... Unlike the caring side she'd seen him exhibit with Sonya. Buffy tried not to care about it, but it was hard trying to forge a relationship with a Watcher who was already attached to a former Slayer. Buffy wondered if such a situation had ever existed before. Then she put that out of her mind. Of course not, all the Slayers before Sonya were dead -- that was why Giles had worked so hard to protect Sonya. This must be the first case in Slayer history when a Slayer and a former Slayer were alive at the same time, and in the same town. In any case, Buffy felt glad that Giles was trying, but she didn't feel comfortable enough with him to talk about her love life.   
  
"I'm fine. I had to stake a vamp at The Cellar tonight. It went fine, but I wasn't expecting it. I guess it just unsettled me a little..." she told him.   
  
Giles didn't look like he bought it, and seemed about to say something else, when suddenly the door to his apartment burst open and Angel came through it at a run. Once inside, he closed the door and turned the deadbolt. Buffy and Giles sprang to their feet.   
  
"How did you...?" Buffy asked.   
  
"He's been invited for months," Giles explained. Then he looked at Angel. "What's wrong?"   
  
"Someone's following me," Angel answered. "Whoever they are, they're good. I couldn't find them."   
  
"Then how did you know they were there?" Buffy asked.   
  
"I could sense them, but I couldn't see them," Angel explained. "I figure I could probably take them, but I was headed here anyway, so I thought I'd check for backup, in case there are a lot of them."   
  
Buffy was about to question Angel further when the window over the television broke with a loud crash, and a figure swung inside on a rope, high-heeled boots first.   
  
The first to regain her composure, Buffy lunged for the figure in black, despite the shards of broken glass, but the figure darted away. Then Buffy recognized her. "Petunia?"   
  
The girl paused and glared at Buffy. She was wearing the same outfit that she'd had on at The Cellar, but this time it was accessorized with a belt of weapons -- knives, stakes and even guns. "What kind of Slayer are you, anyway?" she demanded harshly.   
  
Everyone froze at that comment. Buffy finally regained her tongue. "What are you talking about, and how do you know...?"   
  
Petunia took advantage of their confusion, and leapt toward Angel with an extended stake. They could hear her saying, "What kind of a Slayer or a Watcher consorts with vampires?"   
  
Realizing that Petunia really meant to kill Angel, Buffy launched herself toward the girl as Angel deftly moved out of her way. Buffy grabbed the girl's booted feet, and Angel took hold of Petunia's wrists, pinching a nerve so she was forced to drop the stake. Giles reached into his weapons cabinet (he had one in every room in the condo) and pulled out a length of rope. Working together, they had the girl tied to the wooden chair within seconds, and then removed her weapons belt so she couldn't try any tricks.   
  
"Now it's our turn to ask you a few questions," Buffy said. "Who are you, and how do you know all this? And why have you been following us around."   
  
"Us?" Angel looked at Buffy.   
  
"She was at The Cellar tonight," Buffy explained tersely. "Dancing with Xander. She knew my name... And I assume she was the one following you just now..."   
  
Angel looked at Petunia's scowling face. "She'll have to answer that one."   
  
Petunia glared up at him. "I don't talk to vampires. I track them to their lairs and kill them while they sleep. Or I fight them -- that's even better."   
  
"He's not your ordinary vampire," Giles said gently.   
  
"What kind of Watcher are you?" Petunia demanded. "A vampire had access to your house and your Slayer!"   
  
"Angel has a soul," Giles broke in to explain. "Due to a curse, his human soul is bound within his vampire body. He makes us a good ally, especially on the Hellmouth."   
  
"Hellmouth, schmellmouth," Petunia muttered, darting another death-look at Angel. "There isn't a vampire on this earth that shouldn't be staked."   
  
"Whatever," Buffy broke into the conversation. "What I want to know is why you're here, and how you know all this stuff about us. And you'd better believe that we are not letting you go until you tell us."   
  
"You're just still bitter that I stole a kiss from your man," Petunia answered in a mocking tone. "Afraid Xander will want more of them?"   
  
Buffy pulled her hand back and slapped Petunia across the cheek.   
  
"Buffy!" Giles reprimanded her, shocked.   
  
Angel grabbed Buffy's arm before the Slayer could strike another blow. A red welt was already forming across the other girl's cheek. "Don't do that again, Buffy. You have an unfair advantage."   
  
Knowing Angel was right -- Petunia was bound and a non-Slayer, it was nothing like a fair fight -- Buffy relaxed her arm. When Angel let her go, she walked to the other side of the room to let Giles and the vampire conduct the interrogation.   
  
"Tell us where you came from and why you're here," Giles tried again.   
  
Petunia looked up at him with a calm stare, despite the mark on her cheek. "You are Mr. Rupert Giles?"   
  
"I am." Giles nodded affirmatively.   
  
"I will tell you, and the Slayer," Petunia darted a glare at the girl on the other side of the room, "but I will not tell you while the vampire is here."   
  
"Tough luck, Toots," Buffy called. "Angel is part of our team, an invaluable ally. He's saved all our lives more than once, and he's fought side-by-side with us as we try to contain the baddies of the Hellmouth. Angel may be a vampire, but he's also a friend. He can hear whatever you have to say." Buffy walked back across the room, and stared the other girl down. "And if you don't level with us soon, you'd better get comfy in those ropes because you'll be here a while."   
  
Petunia didn't look happy about it, but she didn't have much of a choice. "My name is Faith," the girl said matter-of-factly. "The Watcher's Council sent me and my team to monitor and patrol the Hellmouth while you and the Slayer are at the tribunal."   
  
Giles, Buffy and Angel started at Petunia, now Faith, in shock.   
  
"The Council sent you here?" Giles repeated incredulously.   
  
Faith nodded. "Did you really think the Council would let the Hellmouth sit unguarded while you two go overseas?"   
  
"Well, they needn't have worried," Buffy said sharply. She didn't have a good opinion of the Council based on what Giles had said, and more on what he had done. Any organization that would take a paralyzed girl's life to further it's own goals -- no matter how noble -- seemed sinister to her. She tried to hide such thoughts -- after all, Giles had come from the Council, and he was good -- but she had them nonetheless. To Faith, she added, "We have our own measures in place to hold down the fort while we're gone. Who are you, anyway, to get such a position? The Hellmouth is a dangerous place, especially for mere humans."   
  
"Your Xander seems to have done all right for himself," Faith retorted.   
  
"You're a potential Slayer, aren't you?" Giles spoke up.   
  
Faith nodded smugly. "They said that if you hadn't interferred, I would have been the next called after Sonya. But since you did, I've been trained to do what I can on my own. I might not have super strength or supernatural healing, but I can take down a vampire by myself, and several varieties of demon."   
  
"Uh... guys?" Angel said.   
  
Buffy and Giles looked at him, concerned by the odd inflection in his voice. He was staring over their heads at the broken window.   
  
"What's wrong?" Buffy asked.   
  
"I think the question we should be asking her is 'what team?'" Angel didn't tear his eyes away from the window.   
  
Buffy follwed his gaze and saw two young men and a young woman standing there, aiming crossbows into the room. Like Faith, they had on tight black clothing and weapons belts. They reminded Buffy of some kind of commando squad. "Looks like that's moot now -- they're already here."   
  
"Terrance, Rio, Nicole," Faith said, grinning at her re-inforcements, "I'd like you to meet the Slayer, her Watcher and their pet vampire."   
  
One of the young men -- he was tall, broad shouldered and muscular with blond hair and blue eyes -- jumped through the window. He landed lightly on his feet, and his aim on Angel's heart never faltered.   
  
"Let her go," he said in a well-cultured, English accent.   
  
Buffy stepped between the crossbow and Angel, figuring that minions of the Council wouldn't dare kill her in cold blood. "Terrance? Is that your name?" At his slight nod, she continued, "I think we can talk this out. We'll untie Faith, if you all put your weapons down."   
  
"We must figure out what is going on here so all the best resources can be used to preserve life on the Hellmouth during Buffy's absence," Giles added.   
  
The two remaining commandos jumped into the room as well. They all locked eyes with Faith, and she nodded at them. They lowered their weapons, keeping them in easy range. Giles stepped forward and let Faith out of her bonds. Angel handed her back her weapons belt.   
  
"Let me make a phone call or two, and then we will get down to business," Giles said.   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
Half and hour later, a sleepy Amy, an annoyed Jenny, a defiant Sonya, a calm Oz and an impassive Xander had joined the group in the living room of the condo. While waiting, Buffy and Nicole had cleaned up the broken glass while Angel boarded up the window. The newcomers seemed less hostile than before, though none of them seemed to trust Angel. However, they did seem to bestow some level of defference on Giles. Buffy assumed it was because he was a Watcher.   
  
They discovered that the four young people made up an elite team, trained by every resource known to the Council -- supernatural and natural. They were all well-educated in fighting styles and book learning. And each of the four had a unique talent that could be put to good use in the nightly battle against evil on the Hellmouth.   
  
Faith was a potential Slayer. She had an innate aptitude for the fighting arts, weaponry and strategy, and while she still had human (non-Slayer) vulnerabilities, training had enabled her to overcome them in many ways. Terrance, a native of England, had been destined to be a Watcher until his gift of telekenisis was discovered, and he became an asset in other ways. Rio, a slender, dark youth from Spain, was a budding warlock. Nicole, a lovely red head with soulful green eyes and milky white skin, had been born in France, but she had been abandoned to the Council at an early age when her talent for pyroteknics became obvious.   
  
The two groups sized each other up uneasily, no one quite sure what to do now. Giles took charge of the meeting.   
  
"Though there have been some new developments this evening, our main concern remains the same," he said. Sensing a speech coming on, Buffy and Sonya shared a smirk. Faith glowered at them. Giles continued talking, oblivious. "We must secure the Hellmouth while our main fighting force -- Buffy, and Xander and Sonya to a certain extent -- are overseas. Faith, Rio, Nicole and Terrance were sent by the Council, and Ms. Calendar, Amy and Angel are already here. Now, I know the two groups will have problems, but practicality insists that efforts be combined."   
  
Heads around the room nodded.   
  
"Good," Giles said. "Now, because of the length of time he has spent fighting on the Hellmouth, and because of his lack of other obligations vocation and family-wise, Angel is the unofficial leader of our team. It makes sense, therefore, that he and Faith work together to deploy forces."   
  
Faith gave the vampire a black look. Angel ignored her, but looked none too happy about the pronouncement.   
  
"The other alternative is that Ms. Calendar and another memeber of your team," he nodded toward Faith, "serve as go-betweens to eliminate any friction."   
  
"No!" both Faith and Angel protested simultaneously. Then they glared at each other.   
  
Finally, Angel said, "As long as she quits trying to kill me, I can work with her."   
  
Everyone looked to Faith. "All right, I'll do it for now," she agreed grudgingly, "but you'd better believe I'm going to call this in, Mr. Giles. I don't think the Council is going to be thrilled that your big plan for keeping the Hellmouth safe during your absense rested on a vampire, a school teacher and a witch in training."   
  
Amy gasped indignantly, but Angel and Ms. Calendar remained calm.   
  
"Don't worry, Mr. Giles," Jenny said calmly. "I know *we* will not let petty jealousy and irrational, childish feelings get in the way of keeping the civilians safe from vampires and other assorted problems -- if there are any -- while you are all in England." She gave the four newcomers her most imperious teacher look. "And I'm sure Faith, Terrance, Rio and Nicole will realize the importance of this as well."   
  
The four commando-teens, even Faith, had the grace to look abashed, but they didn't make any promises.   
  
"Well, I guess that is the best I can hope for," Giles finally said. "I suppose we can call this meeting to a close. Those of us who are flying out in the morning need some sleep, and Buffy still has to make her final patrol."   
  
Buffy stood up quickly, more than ready to get out of there. She'd had enough of these commandos to be glad that she wouldn't have to deal with them any more.   
  
"Want me to go with?" Sonya asked the Slayer, as Buffy gathered her belongings.   
  
"No, I can handle it," Buffy answered, carefully avoiding Xander's eyes. They hadn't said a word to each other since The Cellar, and she could feel the awkwardness between them. She didn't want to talk to anyone while she was out. She longed for some quiet time, alone with her thoughts and perhaps only a vampire or two for diversion. "But thanks."   
  
"Buffy," Giles called before she could get out the door.   
  
(Damn!) she thought. Turning back, she plastered a smile on her face and asked, "Yes, Giles?"   
  
"I think you should take one of Faith's team with you. She can't go, of course, as she needs to confer with Angel, but if you take one of the others you can show them the places vampires like to frequent. That will help Angel and the others considerably, I'm sure." Giles looked to Faith and her companions.   
  
Faith nodded. "Good idea, Mr. Giles. Nicole, you go."   
  
Sonya noticed Buffy's slight sneer of distaste and stood up. "Are you sure you don't want me to come, Buffy? I know a lot of places from my time as Slayer that we might want to check out." (And it will probably be easier to deal with commando-chick if you have reinforcements,) she added to herself.   
  
Buffy looked over at Sonya and smiled a little bit, relieved not to have to deal with one of the commandos all by herself. "Yeah, maybe you should come after all."   
  
Sonya nodded and ran into her room to grab a few supplies. She came back into the living room outfitted with a backpack full of stakes, holy water, crosses, and other assorted items. She had a crossbow in her right hand.   
  
Sonya walked over to where Oz sat on the couch and gave him a quick hug. "See ya tomorrow, bright and early," she said with a grin.   
  
He nodded. "I'll be ready." He gave her a serious look. "Be careful."   
  
Sonya shrugged. "Hey, it's me you're talking to here. I've only gone on patrol like a million times. No worries. I'll be fine."   
  
The corners of Oz's mouth quirked up a little bit. "I was talking about Sheila."   
  
Sonya pretended to be offended by that and gave him a light slap on the shoulder. Then she softened the blow with a smile. "Don't worry, Oz. Your van will remain intact. Promise."   
  
Buffy smiled as she watched this exchange.   
  
"Stop flirting with the crip and get going already," Faith demanded, an angry scowl on her face as she watched Sonya and Oz. "If you don't hurry up, all the vampires will have gone underground for the day before you even get out there!"   
  
Sonya's spine stiffened, and she stood up slowly, facing Faith with a deceptively calm expression on her face. She walked toward Faith and, before anyone even knew what she was planning, she had grabbed the commando leader by the collar and pulled her forward roughly. In a low and dangerous voice, Sonya said, "Listen, Flower Bitch! I've been fighting vampires since before you even knew they existed, so don't you ever take that tone of voice with me or my friends again!"   
  
"Oh yeah?" Faith sneered, ripping herself out of Sonya's grasp. "What are you going to do about it? You think you can take me on, Miss I-Used-To-Be-The-Slayer?"   
  
Sonya didn't dignify the insult with a reply. Instead, before anyone could react, she leaned back and thrust her leg out in a side kick that landed on Faith's chest. The other girl flew backwards into one of Giles's bookshelves. It rocked back and forth for a second, and several tomes fell to the ground.   
  
Looking down at Faith, Sonya said, "Life on the Hellmouth isn't as easy as you seem to think. You and your 'team' had better be ready for it. If I could knock you down with one kick, imagine what an actual vampire could do. I guess it's a good thing Angel's going to be around to show you the ropes."   
  
Sonya picked up her gear and headed for the door. "Coming?" she asked Buffy and Nicole. The French girl slid Sonya a slightly-intimidated gaze as she went out the door. Buffy gave Sonya an approving grin. Sonya followed the two girls out, and shut the door to the condo firmly behind her.   
  
Glaring at the closed door, Faith stood up and tried to regain her sense of control over the situation. Rio and Terrance moved to her side, asking if she needed any help. She turned her glare on them. "I'm fine. You two, go back to the motel. I'll be along when I'm finished with... *him*." She gave Angel a look, which the vampire ignored.   
  
Amy and Jenny got ready to leave as well. And they were giving Oz a ride. Jenny said a quick goodbye to Giles, and then the trio began the laborious process of getting Oz and his broken leg into the car.   
  
Xander paused by Faith. "So... Petunia... was this what you had in mind?"   
  
Faith glared at him. Xander realized she must like to glare -- she did it a lot.   
  
"Not in the slightest," she replied shortly.   
  
"So, what were you doing coming on to me like that, anyway?" Xander asked.   
  
"Reconnissance," she answered in the same clipped tone.   
  
"Ah..." Xander quirked a lopsided smile at her. "I figured it wasn't because of my pretty face." He noticed Angel waiting to talk to Faith, and figured that Buffy, Sonya and Nicole were long gone by now, so Xander got ready to head for home. He looked down at Faith. "Well, so long, Petunia."   
  
A few steps away, her irritated voice stopped him. "Stop calling me Petunia!"   
  
Xander grinned back at her devilishly. This was the one fun thing that had happened to him all night, and he was going to enjoy it. "Not a chance, Petunia. In fact, I think Petunia suits you much better than Faith. I'm glad you thought of it." Her glare got even worse, but Xander didn't care. He said good night to Giles and Angel, and at the door paused and looked back at her. "Good night, Petunia! I hope life on the Hellmouth is as easy as you seem to think." Then he left.   
  
"Well," Giles said, "I must finish my packing and get some sleep. You two have a nice chat." With that, he cleared out of the living room, leaving Angel and Faith alone. 


	5. Chapter 4

In the Space of a Journey  
Chapter Four   
  
The Streets of Sunnydale   
  
"You sure knocked Faith down a few pegs, no pun intended," Buffy whispered to Sonya as they walked down the road. They'd driven across town in silence, hidden Sheila, and now Nicole walked several feet ahead of them.   
  
"Maybe I got a little carried away," Sonya hissed back sheepishly. "She really pushed my buttons, and I let it show."   
  
"Just a little bit." Buffy laughed softly. "But she deserved it."   
  
"That's very unfair and judgmental of you."   
  
The two girls glanced up to see Nicole had stopped walking, and was staring back at them with a hurt expression in her wide, green eyes.   
  
"I'm sorry," Buffy mumbled. "I didn't realize you could hear us. Though I guess that's not much of an excuse..." Buffy still believed Faith had deserved her butt-kicking, but thus far Nicole hadn't done anything but follow orders. And having the girl catch them talking about her commander behind her back was disconcerting.   
  
Sonya didn't have such a problem. She looked straight in Nicole's eyes as she and Buffy stopped walking and challenged her. "You may have to defend the girl because she's the leader of your commando squad, but I don't and I'm not going to. Faith is duplicitous, mean, sarcastic and she's got a real attitude problem."   
  
Buffy glanced at Sonya with a small smile. "Some people could say that about you!"   
  
The remark surprised a laugh out of Nicole, who could have no way of understanding the Slayer and the former-Slayer's complex relationship, but Sonya just shook her head at Buffy and continued her lecture. "If Faith isn't careful, she's going to get herself killed, and if you guys blindly follow her, she's going to get you killed as well."   
  
Nicole's smile vanished, and an angry blush tinted her cheeks. When she spoke, emotion colored her gentle voice, bringing out the hint of a French accent that she still possessed after her long and thorough education. "Oh, yes? And what would you do if you were thrust into a strange and dangerous situation -- a situation where you'd been warned not to trust anyone? Would you just plunge in head first, or would you reconnoiter the area? And what would you do when you trail a vampire to it's lair and then discover that it has full access to the one person in town that you are supposed to trust?"   
  
She stopped her barrage of questions for a moment and took a deep breath. Sonya opened her mouth for an angry reply, but Nicole started talking again before Sonya could get a word out. "Faith may have an 'attitude problem,' but she's got good reasons. And, yes, she's brash and sometimes unkind, but her job doesn't permit her the luxury of worrying about people's feelings. She's too busy worrying about their lives." Nicole finally stopped talking. Her cheeks were even pinker -- if such a thing were possible -- and her breath shuddered in deep gasps.   
  
Sonya looked willing to continue the argument, but Buffy took pity on Nicole and said, "Come on, girls, we all feel we're in the right here, so maybe we should just agree to disagree." At the mutinous glances both girls gave her, Buffy added in her best persuasive tone, "Sonya, you know as well as I that we reacted to Angel badly before we knew the truth about his soul -- Faith can't be faulted for her caution there, even though it got her on all of our bad sides. But, Nicole, you have to admit that she goes about things in a way specifically designed to provoke us."   
  
"I guess on the surface it looked suspicious," Sonya admitted, "but she should have asked before barging through the window."   
  
"Perhaps," Nicole grudgingly admitted, "but you shouldn't judge until you know the whole story."   
  
"And we'll try and be better about that from now on, right?" Buffy asked.   
  
"All of us?" Nicole and Sonya both nodded. "Good. Now let's get on with it. Sonya and I have to get a little sleep before flying out tomorrow." Buffy checked her watch as they started walking -- 1 a.m. already.   
  
The factory that had once housed Spike and Willow's lair loomed before them. A twinge of unease rushed up and down Buffy's spine. She paused, staring at the dirty building with broken out and boarded over windows, wondering if the feeling was her Slayer-sense trying to tell her something. Then again, some very traumatic things had happened to her within this building -- the feeling could just be old memories resurfacing.   
  
As the Slayer, Nicole and Sonya looked to Buffy as the de-facto leader of the team. She took a deep breath, tried to put the feeling behind her, and said, "It looks deserted. Let's do a perimeter check and rendezvous by the front door. You two go left. I'll go right."   
  
Not thrilled at the partnership, but willing to give it a try, the brunette and the red head vanished one way. Buffy crept around the other way. She looked for signs of habitation and found none. When she made it to the front door, Sonya and Nicole were waiting.   
  
"Anything?" Buffy asked.   
  
"Nothing," Sonya answered. Nicole nodded in agreement.   
  
"All right," Buffy decided, "we'll go in and do a quick sweep. It seems deserted, but you can never be too careful. Sonya?"   
  
In a routine the two girls had developed on the return of Sonya's walking ability, Sonya kicked the doors open, and Buffy sprang inside, stake extended and ready. The large room was deserted.   
  
"Clear!" Buffy called back, and Sonya and Nicole entered the building.   
  
"Why have we come here?" Nicole questioned, looking around in distaste at the inside of the factory. It hadn't been in stellar condition when Willow, Spike and their minions lived there, but now it looked even worse: crumbling furnishings, dirty walls, stray animal droppings, a big hole in one of the walls from Oz's van...   
  
"This was where the last ruling vamps of Sunnydale made their home," Buffy explained briefly. "We check it out every now and then to see if Spike has come back or if some other vamps have reclaimed the territory."   
  
"Spike... as in William the Bloody?" Nicole questioned.   
  
"Yeah, we had a whole vampire civil war on our hands," Buffy said. She walked a few steps inside and stared down at a scorch mark on the floor. "This is where Willow, the vampire queen at the time, died. Spike killed her with a flame thrower. It was a mutiny and Xander, Angel and I were caught in the middle."   
  
"With a so-called good vampire and a Slayer, those are good odds against even many vampires," Nicole commented.   
  
"That was before I got my powers," Buffy said quietly. "Well, I did get my powers at the end of that fight, but I didn't even know what was happening or that me getting the powers was a possibility. It was amazing that we got out alive. Spike..." Buffy stopped herself. If the commandos resented them for letting Angel fight on their team, there was no way they'd understand an alliance with Spike -- no matter how short-lived the alliance or how bad the odds against them.   
  
Nicole slanted a suspicious glance at the Slayer, but didn't say anything. Buffy had noticed a large, wooden table decorated with thick leather straps at the corners. She walked slowly over to it, reached out and touched one of the straps.   
  
"It's still here," Buffy whispered, mostly to herself.   
  
Sonya, who had walked over, heard the comment. "Well, I guess it hasn't been that long really -- only three months."   
  
"Yeah," Buffy agreed, seeing Nathan, the evil sorcerer who wanted her blood, standing over her with a wicked-sharp knife. The only time in her life that she'd felt more helpless was two months ago when her powers started to vanish and no one knew why. "But somehow it feels more like a lifetime. So much has happened since then."   
  
"I can agree with that."   
  
Buffy looked up at Sonya, and from her expression, judged that the girl was having her own Nathan flashbacks. None of this was productive, so Buffy said, "All right, this place looks pretty beat. Let's go check out the graveyard."   
  
"Maybe there will be some actual vampires there," Nicole muttered.   
  
Sonya rolled her eyes and was about to make a snappy comeback, when they heard a growl behind them. The three girls turned to see golden eyes glowing at them in the darkness. Sonya readied her crossbow, and Buffy pulled out her stake again. Nicole just stood there. Buffy would have told her to get a weapon from her amply-supplied belt, but there wasn't time.   
  
The figure that owned the glowing eyes sprang directly at her. Buffy tried to leap out of the way, but it moved too fast for that. It tackled her, and then they were rolling around on the dirty ground in hand-to-hand combat. Buffy aimed her stake at the creature's heart -- it looked like a vampire, but it didn't speak, and it seemed wizened somehow. It's skin hung loosely on it's bones. It batted her hand away, and the stake went clattering. Buffy was able to hold the thing away from her throat -- just barely -- but she wasn't making any headway in defeating it.   
  
"Some help here?" Buffy grunted from between gritted teeth as the creature's claw-like fingers gouged a track in the skin of her shoulder. Buffy raised her foot and jabbed at the thing's gut, but that didn't phase it.   
  
Sonya snapped into action and fired her crossbow, but the creature rolled at just that instant, and the bolt missed.   
  
Scrambling for another bolt, Sonya hissed, "Nicole! A little help here..."   
  
Nicole didn't reply. She seemed frozen, staring at the creature with her arms outstretched.   
  
Then Sonya found another bolt, loaded and fired again. This time the bolt hit the thing in the leg. The strange vampire yelled and hissed in pain. Buffy used it's moment of distraction to kick it again -- in it's injured leg. Then she shoved with all her might and the thing went flying backwards. It landed on the concrete floor several feet away, and immediately it was struggling to its feet and moved toward them again on all fours. Sonya fired another bolt. It would have gone into the thing's heart, if it hadn't flattened itself to the ground.   
  
Suddenly, Nicole screamed, and the creature burst into flames. Buffy and Sonya froze, their eyes glued to the grisly spectacle. It burned for a second, evil howls echoing in their ears. And then the fire took over completely, and the creature vanished in a huge burst of flame, turning into a pile of blackened ash.   
  
After a second, Buffy said quietly, "It must've been some kind of vampire if fire can do *that* to it."   
  
"It was a feral vampire. If a vampire doesn't find its first meal soon enough, it can go totally animal. It depends somewhat on the personality of the human that becomes the vampire -- if the person had access to their animalistic tendencies which can be amplified by the demon and the hunger -- so it doesn't happen often, but once a vampire goes feral, it's nearly irreversible. Even if it feeds, it will still be animalistic."   
  
Sonya and Buffy stared at Nicole.   
  
"How do you know that?" Sonya asked.   
  
"I'm Watcher trained and educated," Nicole replied. "Our team doesn't have the luxury of a full-time Watcher. We have to know enough to figure out what we're dealing with ourselves."   
  
"Those were some impressive pyrotechnics," Buffy said, giving the red head an approving look.   
  
Nicole accepted the compliment with a nod. "And you two have some impressive skills as well."   
  
"If I could learn to aim better," Sonya remarked bitterly.   
  
"You did fine," Buffy assured her.   
  
"I only hit it once!" Sonya cried angrily.   
  
"You're always your own worst critic," Buffy said. "That thing was fast. And strong. And a good dodger."   
  
"And after being the Slayer, I'd imagine it would be hard to get used to firing without the help of your powers," Nicole added.   
  
Sonya looked at the new girl, trying to discern if there was an insult behind the comment, but she couldn't find one. "Well, I'm not happy about it, but thanks for trying."   
  
"You're never happy about it, but I know you're good, so that's all that matters." Buffy slung an arm around Sonya's shoulders, and started them all walking out of the factory. "Now, let's get out of here. We've still got a graveyard or two to deal with."   
  
As they stepped out into the warm nighttime air, Nicole looked at the two Sunnydale veterans and asked, "How many cemeteries are there here anyway?"   
  
"Thirteen," Buffy answered quickly.   
  
"Each with it's on distinct personality," Sonya added. "And don't forget that new one on the east side of town that's set to open in, what, six months?"   
  
"Isn't that a bit excessive for one small town?" Nicole replied with a small frown.   
  
Buffy shook her head. "Not when that small town sits on a Hellmouth."   
  
A little later, when they were patrolling through the nearest cemetery, Buffy motioned for Sonya to go on ahead and stayed behind to talk to Nicole.   
  
"Thanks for what you did back there," Buffy said sincerely. "You saved us."   
  
Nicole blushed a little at the compliment. "You and Sonya would have gotten him eventually. All I did was end things more quickly. I just wish I hadn't frozen up for a minute -- I could have fried him before he jumped you."   
  
"Your talent would come in really handy fighting vampires on a regular basis," Buffy remarked in a casual tone. "Do you know what the Council has in store for you once we get back from our trip?"   
  
"We don't get to know that far in advance," Nicole said. Her pale skin glowed luminously in the silvery moonlight.   
  
"Well, I can't say anything about the guys because I don't know them, and I won't say anything else to you about Faith," Buffy said with a smile, "but if you wanted to stay on in Sunnydale after we get back, I'm sure Giles would approve. A pyrotechnic is a great defense against vampires."   
  
Nicole gave Buffy a sharp glance. "You think Giles is coming back?"   
  
Buffy frowned. "Why wouldn't he? I mean, he did lie to the Council, but it was all for a good cause. Sonya's life is important. They have to see that, right?" Nicole's expression didn't reassure the Slayer. "Have you heard something, Nicole?"   
  
The other girl shook her head. "I've heard nothing. I just know the Council. They don't brook betrayal well, Buffy, no matter the cause." Nicole swallowed nervously, and forced a smile. "But maybe you are right. Perhaps there's nothing to worry about."   
  
"Or perhaps I'm not worried enough," Buffy mumbled under her breath.   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
In the living room of the condo, Faith and Angel eyed one another warily. Faith looked tense. Angel guessed she anticipated another attack. Not that he blamed her after those she'd endured thus far. He was tempted to fulfill her expectations, but he restrained himself.   
  
"So," Angel said aloud, not voicing any of his thoughts.   
  
"So..." Faith replied, placing her hands on her black spandex-clad hips.   
  
"Any thoughts on how we should proceed?" Angel sat down on the couch, pretending to be perfectly at ease. With this girl he couldn't let her have any advantage.   
  
"I don't suppose that you're going to step back and let me take charge of things," Faith said sarcastically. She straddled the arm of the couch and stared at him with snapping dark eyes.   
  
"Not a chance," Angel replied, leaning forward.   
  
"Didn't think so." Faith studied him for a moment, and then she was all business. "I think Rio should work with your witches. He's well-trained, but he's the newest member of the team, so he'll benefit from time with those who have more combat experience."   
  
Angel nodded. "Sounds workable. I'm sure Ms. Calendar and Amy will be glad for the help. Of course, they usually stay behind during missions. They are the researchers and the spell casters, not the front lines."   
  
"Agreed," Faith said. She seemed a bit surprised that the word actually came out of her mouth regarding the two teams. "Where's the headquarters?"   
  
"Usually we use the Sunnydale High School library," Angel told her, "but it's locked up tight for the break. We can get in if we need to, but Giles and I thought this condo would make the best headquarters. We've all got keys. It has a good quantity of books and resources, and no one will get suspicious of people traipsing through the school."   
  
"What about patrols?" Faith asked. "We generally break up into teams of two to cover more ground."   
  
"And you still have backup," Angel surmised.   
  
"Nicole and Terrance make a good team," Faith continued as if he hadn't even spoken. Angel flashed her a dark look, but listened. "That's the way we usually break things down -- Nicole and Terrance and me and Rio."   
  
"Sounds fine, except for one thing," Angel inserted, talking loudly enough to ride right over her strident tones. She closed her mouth and listened, but obviously wasn't too happy about it. Angel continued, "If Rio is with the girls at headquarters, that leaves you and I... together."   
  
"Think you can handle it?" Faith challenged.   
  
"I'll be fine," Angel asserted. "I was just worried about you. You don't seem the type to be able to trust a vampire."   
  
"Maybe that's why I want you on my team." Faith tucked a strand of shiny, brown hair behind her ear and then crossed her arms over her chest. "So you stay where I can watch you."   
  
"Seeing as I don't trust you farther than I can throw you, I'll agree to this," Angel said. He didn't want to be stuck with her, but he didn't want to wonder what plots she was unfolding elsewhere either. "If you think you can keep up with me..."   
  
"I can keep up with anyone." Faith stood and walked over until she was right up in Angel's face. She enunciated each word with a poke to his chest. "Especially you."   
  
Angel reached up, grabbed her hand, and in one swift movement he was standing with her arm pinioned behind her back. "I wouldn't be so sure of that."   
  
To his surprise, Faith laughed. "You're just full of surprises, aren't you?" Her hand behind her back twitched, and before Angel realized it, she had gouged his skin with her fingernails. The pain shocked him into letting her go, though his undead flesh began to knit itself back together almost instantly.   
  
When he looked up, Faith had vaulted over the couch and out of his reach. He said, "You are, too."   
  
"Don't I know it." Her smile shone with self-satisfaction.   
  
Privately, Angel vowed that next time Faith would not win, but now was not the time for such things. Just then the door opened to reveal Sonya and Nicole, both looking a little the worse for wear.   
  
"What happened?" Angel asked Sonya quickly. His eyes clamped on to the open door, but no one else was out there.   
  
Following his glance, Sonya said, "I dropped Buffy off at home before we came back here. I would have dropped Nicole at her motel, but she insisted on coming back here, in case *she* was still here." Faith and Sonya exchanged a dark look, but neither was up to following through with the implied threat at the moment.   
  
"Nicole," Faith said, "report."   
  
"It was mostly quiet," Nicole said in her cultured voice. Angel noted the hint of French in the rolls of her "r's" and the pronunciation of some of her vowels -- but it was only enough to give her a mysterious air, not enough to impede understanding. She continued, "I learned the location of all the graveyards and several other places of frequent vampire activity."   
  
"Something else happened," Faith said. "A full report, Nicole, now."   
  
"There was a feral vampire. It jumped us, but we killed it." Nicole glanced at Faith to see if she wanted more details.   
  
"A feral vampire!" Angel exclaimed. "I haven't seen one of those in years."   
  
"Well, you know Sunnydale," Sonya said sarcastically, "if the demon is at all possible, it will find its way here." Then she looked up at Angel in surprise, belatedly realizing what he had said. "You knew about them?"   
  
"Doesn't everyone?" Angel replied.   
  
"I didn't!" Sonya exclaimed. "Buffy didn't."   
  
"Some Slayer," Faith muttered. "Even *I* knew that."   
  
"Be fair, Faith," Nicole inserted. "We *have* to know. We don't have Watchers to do that for us." Sonya and Angel both glanced at the girl in surprise for her defense of Buffy.   
  
"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" Faith asked.   
  
Sonya stepped toward Faith. Faith stiffened her spine and readied herself for more action. "Wanna take another swing at me?"   
  
Sensing the deterioration of the situation, Angel stepped in between the two girls. He grabbed Faith by one arm and Nicole by the other. "All right, girls, let's get out of here and let Giles and Sonya have their home back." Nicole followed along willingly, but Faith he had to tug fairly hard to get her to move. Sonya followed them to the door.   
  
Once they were over the threshold, she called, "Bye-bye, now. Don't let any monsters get you while we're gone."   
  
"Thanks, Son, really," Angel said dryly, but he wasn't really offended. That's just how they were together.   
  
Nicole just went on her way without responding.   
  
Faith, on the other hand, gave Sonya a saccharine-sweet smile and replied, "Have fun in little, old England, my dear. I'll see you when you get back, and we can finish what we started. If you come back, that is."   
  
Sonya looked puzzled, but she didn't give in to the temptation. Instead she just slammed the door in their faces. Faith ripped her arm out of Angel's grip and motioned to Nicole.   
  
"C'mon. Let's go. The guys are waiting for us back at the hotel."   
  
"I'll meet you here after sundown tomorrow?" Angel called after her.   
  
"Sure, whatever," Faith tossed back over her shoulder. "Let's just hope no bad things come out during the day, while you're incapacitated."   
  
"If they do, I'm sure you can handle them all by your bitty, little self," Angel replied with a sneer. Once the words were out of his mouth, he realized how ridiculous he sounded. He opened his mouth to say as much, but one glance at Faith's retreating figure stopped him.   
  
"G'night, Angel," Faith responded cattily. "Don't let the sunbeams bite."   
  
Angel watched her walk away, restraining any more comebacks. They could do that all night, and he was sure they would continue the witty repartee throughout the days to come. (What a hellion) Angel thought, shaking his head. (And I get stuck dealing with her. Great.) Looking up at her back, which was facing him, a wry smile twisted his lips. (Her only saving grace is that she's not bad to look at while you're fighting with her. Nice ass -- too bad it's her best feature.)   
  
Still shaking his head, now because of his thoughts rather than the situation, Angel turned the other direction and headed for home.   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
After the meeting, Xander went home. Emotionally exhausted, he fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. He didn't move until the beeping of his alarm woke him up, very reluctantly, at seven thirty the next morning. Groaning, he rubbed his scratchy eyes and stretched.   
  
"Turn that damn thing off, boy!" his dad bellowed from the master bedroom down the hall.   
  
"Yeah, yeah!" Xander muttered, switching the alarm clock off. To himself, he grumbled, "It's WAY too early for this," he muttered. "Neither Giles nor the airport should expect me to show up this early after what I went through yesterday."   
  
He stumbled out of bed and into the bathroom for a shower. That was the only thing that would wake him up this morning. He randomly twisted the knobs in the shower, waited a few second and then stepped in. The blast of cold water that hit him in the face woke him up completely! Xander had to bite his tongue so as not to yell and wake his father up again. That wouldn't be pretty. Leaning down, he twisted the knobs for more hot water. None came.   
  
"Dad!" Xander moaned between chattering teeth. "You promised to get the hot water heater fixed so it would stop doing this." Quickly, he began to shampoo and lather up his body. "So much for promises. I should have known better."   
  
A few minutes later, a cleaner, bluer and much more awake Xander was in his room throwing stuff into a duffel bag. In his head, he could hear Giles remonstrating, "Xander, Xander, you should have done that last night."   
  
"Well, I would have," Xander mumbled to the phantom Giles, "if you hadn't summoned me for the so-called *emergency* meeting." Seeing the navy blue folder the Watcher had given him on the floor -- it was sticking out from underneath his bed, but how it had gotten there, Xander had no clue -- he picked it up and leafed through it. His ticket and everything else was in place. He doubled checked that he had his passport, and found it in the side pocket of his carry-on. Squinting at the "what to pack" list, Xander compared it to the rumpled clothing and junk laying scattered on his bed. His eyes darted to the clock. Eight fifteen.   
  
"I'm going to be late. I'm going to be late..." The muttered phrase became his mantra as Xander clumsily folded clothes and stuffed them in the duffel bag.   
  
"What are you doing, Alexander?"   
  
Xander looked up to see his mother standing in the doorway wearing a red and white striped robe and a confused expression. A yellowed bruise colored her right cheek. Xander winced inwardly, as he did every time he saw marks like that on her. But he hadn't been here to protect her. He'd been out trying to save the world. He tried to tell himself that it was more important to save the world, but it never made him feel any better. Xander couldn't wait to be gone from this house. Forever would be good, but a week was a nice start. If only he could take his mother with him -- not to England, but when he finally left for good -- but she wouldn't go. He knew because he'd asked. When he was twelve, he'd told his mother that the two of them should leave and never come back. His mother had refused because of her 'love' for his father.   
  
Trying to keep the emotions inside him from showing on his face, he answered, "I'm packing for my Spring Break trip. Remember, Mom, I'm going to England with Mr. Giles and some kids from school?"   
  
She stared at him blankly. "Are you? How did we pay for the ticket?"   
  
"I told you." Xander sighed, and went through the story again. He didn't know why he bothered. She never remembered anything about him. He was lucky if she remembered how old he was, much less his daily plans. "Mr. Giles got us discount rates because we're students. We're going with kids from other high schools on one of those pre-arranged tour things. I paid for the rest of it out of the money I saved from my summer job at the hot dog joint. Remember now?"   
  
"Oh, yes, I suppose so." She moved into the room and surveyed his packing efforts. "Alexander, honey, you're not doing a very good job of this. By the time you get off the plane all this stuff will be wrinkled beyond repair."   
  
"I know, but I'm running late." Xander looked helplessly at the mess on the bed.   
  
Looking more maternal than she had in a long time, his mom bustled into the room and started folding clothes with an expert hand. "How long until you have to leave?"   
  
Xander looked at the clock again. "I've got to leave here in about twenty-five minutes to be at the school by nine for my ride to the airport."   
  
"We haven't much time." She shook all the clothes he'd already put in the duffel bag -- luckily he'd thought ahead enough to wash them two days earlier -- and started re-folding them. "I'll do this, and you take care of your carry-on. Don't forget shampoo and a toothbrush."   
  
Reverting to childhood habits, Xander mumbled, "Yes, Mom," and the hustled into the bathroom to get the requested items. "This is like the time she got me ready to go to camp the summer after fifth grade." But secretly, he liked it.   
  
Twenty minutes later, all his clothes were neatly folded and packed. He had everything from casual wear in case they got to do any sight-seeing to nice clothes to wear in meetings with the Council. He also had remembered all his toiletries, and even a book, a deck of cards and a notebook and pen for diversion on the plane. And thanks to his day job last summer, he even had extra cash for whatever expenses came his way.   
  
His mother bustled out of the room and came back with a small object in a cloth bag. "Here take this."   
  
"What is it?"   
  
"My travel iron." She smiled a little sadly. "I bought it for that trip your father and I were supposed to take to Niagara Falls. It's never been used. Maybe you can get some use out of it."   
  
"Thanks, Mom." He leaned down to give her a quick hug. "Don't miss me too much."   
  
"How long will you be gone?"   
  
Xander sighed. "A week, Mom. All of Spring Break." He started down the stairs, and she followed a pace or two behind. When he got to the front door, he reached back and gave her another fierce hug. "Be really careful, Mom, OK. If anything... happens, promise me you'll go to Uncle Rory's."   
  
She darted a nervous glance at the staircase. "What would happen, dear? You're the one who should be careful. Traipsing around a foreign country. France, did you say?"   
  
"England," Xander corrected her. "England, Mom. Do you want the number of the place I'm staying, just in case?"   
  
"There's no need," she said, clutching the neck of her robe. "Bye, Alexander."   
  
"Good bye, Mom." Sad that the moment of mother/son closeness was gone -- though he'd expected as much -- Xander opened the door and stepped out on the porch.   
  
As he hoisted his bags onto his shoulders, she walked to the threshold to ask a question. "Is that nice girl going along with you?"   
  
"Which girl, Mom, Buffy? I told you that she and I broke up."   
  
"No, no, not her. That other girl. The really pretty one with the quiet ways and the sweet smile. Willow! That's her name. I always liked Willow. How is she, anyway? I haven't seen her around much lately." His mother looked up at him from her confused, watery blue eyes.   
  
Xander had to fight back a sudden surge of tears. Of all the times for his mother to try and rekindle her interest in his life! He didn't know if her memory lapses about him were due to his father's beatings, her ever-growing taste for alcohol to drown out her pain, a lack of maternal feelings or just a lack of love for him completely. Over the years, beaten down by her lack of response and refusals to leave his father, Xander had thrown himself into whatever life he could find that would keep him out of the house as long as possible. It was funny how the horrible could become the usual, and you didn't even notice it.   
  
Getting himself under control, Xander answered, "No, Mom. Willow's not going. She died two years ago, remember? The same time as Jesse." He looked into her eyes and watched as the clouded confusion crept back in. A moment later and the blank stare was back. "Good bye, Mom. I'll see you when I get back."   
  
"Good bye," she called, waving, but the look on her face made him wonder if she still remembered where he was going.   
  
Xander turned his back on the situation before the familiar, frustrating feelings of helplessness overcame him, and he got in the jeep and drove off with a squeal. He consciously did not look in the rearview mirror to see if she was still out there, or if she'd vanished back into the house.   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
Buffy and Joyce were the first people to reach the library that morning, mostly due to Joyce's prodding. Exhausted from her night of emotional ups and downs, physical exertion and surprises, she could have slept all day. But Joyce had woken her up at seven o'clock with a cheery, "Rise and shine, sweetie! I know you didn't get in until three, but that doesn't mean we can be late. Get up and get ready, and you can sleep more on the plane." They pulled into the library parking lot at five till nine.   
  
Soon after, Oz's familiar van drove up with Sonya behind the wheel. When she screeched to a halt, a green-faced Giles got shakily out of the passenger seat. He walked over to Joyce and asked, "Would you mind if I rode with you to the airport?"   
  
"That's fine," Joyce assured him. They had planned to take Joyce and Oz's vehicles for the drive to LAX. Theoretically, the drive should only take them two hours, but if traffic was bad, the California natives knew it could take them as much as four hours to make it through the maze of LA highways. That's why they were leaving at nine, and their plane didn't leave until two in the afternoon.   
  
A few seconds later, Xander pulled up in his jeep. He grabbed his bags, and threw them in the back of Oz's van.   
  
"Where do you want me?" he asked. He had a smile on his face, but Buffy could tell that something was bothering him. He had the tight look around his eyes that he got sometimes. When they'd been dating, she'd always wondered what caused that, but he would never tell her. She sighed. If only things were better between them, she'd try asking again. But things were worse now than before. And so confusing. She didn't know what to do.   
  
Joyce took it upon herself to answer his question. "Well, I'm driving my minivan, and Sonya is driving Oz's van. I think Oz is comfortable in there, so he's not moving, and Giles and Buffy are riding with me. You can go wherever you want. There's more than enough room in both vehicles."   
  
Buffy watched Xander glance between the two vans. She knew exactly what he was thinking. He could ride in the passenger seat of Oz's van, next to Sonya, whom he still was barely speaking to. Or he could ride in her mother's van, in the backseat next to her and feel awkward about their situation. What a horrible choice for him.   
  
Abruptly, Buffy said, "Mom, do you mind if I ride with Sonya?"   
  
"No, not if you want to," Joyce replied amiably. "We're all going to the same place."   
  
"All right, everybody," Buffy said, "let's get out of here." As she made her way over to the zebra stripped van, Xander touched her shoulder.   
  
"Thanks," he said softly.   
  
"It's OK," Buffy replied. When he looked at her that way, she couldn't help but smile at him a little. Part of her wanted to reach out and hug him. The unexplained sadness in his eyes hurt her soul. But she settled for just touching his hand. He opened the van door for her. Buffy got in, and then looked at him.   
  
He looked straight back at her. "Do you think maybe we can talk for a little while on the plane?"   
  
Divided on this issue, as always, part of Buffy wanted to yell, "No, no, no! No more torture!" But the other part of her wanted that above all else. After a short pause, she said, "Yeah. We could do that."   
  
"Good." Then he shut her door, and got in the backseat of her mother's van. A few minutes later, and the two vans pulled out of the parking lot on the way to the airport. 


	6. Chapter 5

In the Space of a Journey  
Chapter Five   
  
The Plane   
  
"Ouch! Buffy, be careful with that thing!" Sonya rubbed the back of her head as Buffy continued to adjust her oversized carry-on in the overhead compartment.   
  
"Sorry," Buffy said, finally getting the compartment shut and latched. "You OK?"   
  
"That thing is way heavy," Sonya complained.   
  
"Well, it does contain a small arsenal," Buffy hissed so no one could overhear.   
  
"Let me see," Oz commanded from his seat, giving Sonya a serious look. "You could have been hurt." He and his cast had been firmly ensconced in the first row of first class, so standing up again wasn't really an option. Sonya leaned down to give him access to the bumped portion of her head. She knew that with her enhanced healing abilities, a bump on the head wasn't likely to cause any irreversible damage, but she humored him anyway.   
  
"See anything?" she asked.   
  
"Just your hair."   
  
That surprised a chuckle out of Sonya. Watching the by-play with a "how cute" expression, Buffy laughed as well. Embarrassed, Sonya straightened up, and stepped back into the aisle.   
  
"All right, everybody, listen up!" Her voice and the sharp staccato clapping of her hands made the other five members of the group look at Joyce. She was sitting in the second row next to the window.   
  
"Is something amiss?" Giles asked, craning his head over the back of her seat from his window-side position in the third row.   
  
"No, not at all. I just had a great idea." Joyce brimmed over with enthusiasm.   
  
"We've got a really long flight ahead of us, and I know a way to make things more interesting."   
  
"How?' Xander asked, shutting his own overhead compartment.   
  
"I'm going to set my watch alarm to go off at regular intervals," Joyce explained, "and when it goes off we all switch seat partners. That way we'll all get to sit with everyone. We can alleviate boredom and get to know each other better in one fell swoop. It's killing two birds with one stone!"   
  
"Mom!" Buffy protested in a slightly whiney tone. "I don't think..."   
  
"Nope!" Joyce interrupted. "I'm not going to budge on this. I want to get to know all of you better, and I think some of you want the same thing."   
  
"Whatever we do, you'd better decide quick," Oz said. "Early boarding is about to end."   
  
Maybe it was the threat of incoming passengers to clog the aisles, or maybe it was Joyce's stubborn insistence, but everyone agreed to the idea.   
  
"Good!" Joyce said, smiling. "Now-who's sitting with who?"   
  
"Whom," Giles corrected. Joyce paid no attention.   
  
Buffy took the lay of the land. She, Sonya and Xander were still standing in the aisle, while Oz (who wasn't moving), her mother and Giles were sitting in the window seats. She didn't want to sit with Giles-that was a given. She loved her mother, but she didn't really want to do that either. Xander caught her eye. Buffy knew he was wondering if she wanted to sit with him now so they could have that talk. Panic overtook her, and she blurted, "I'll sit with Oz!" Following action to words, she dove into the seat next to the taciturn boy with the broken leg, despite unhappy looks from both Xander and Sonya.   
  
"Running away doesn't help," Oz commented softly as Buffy fussed with her seatbelt.   
  
"I know, I know," Buffy replied just as quietly. "But I'm just not quite ready to face him yet. And it's not like there isn't plenty of time."   
  
"Will you be ready before the end of the flight?"   
  
"I sure hope so." Wanting to turn the spotlight off of her love life, Buffy grinned at Oz and said, "But now that I've got you here, and you can't move, I want to know all the juicy details about you and Sonya..."   
  
From behind them, Joyce could be heard, saying, "Sonya, sweetie, why don't you sit by me? We've really never had much of a chance to chat."   
  
"Um... OK," Sonya agreed.   
  
"I guess that leaves us together, G-Man," Xander said unnecessarily.   
  
"Oh, joy," Giles muttered. "And how many times have I asked you not to call me that?"   
  
Xander rolled his eyes, and Sonya gave him a sympathetic look. His look contained answering sympathy, and for a minute it was like old times. Then the awkwardness took over again, and they both slid into their seats.   
  
Sonya looked over at Joyce, who was smiling sweetly. She tried to smile back, but was afraid it looked pained. Joyce seemed oblivious. She reached into her purse and pulled out a red, plastic box.   
  
"How about a game of travel checkers?" Joyce asked with a big grin. "They're magnetic!"   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
A Fancy Club in London   
  
Aidan just didn't know how Doyle managed it. It was after 11 p.m. and the half-demon was still drinking like there was no tomorrow. Aidan glanced at his watch again and sighed. 11:08 p.m. He thought about the appointment he had with some members of the Watchers Council at the crack of dawn tomorrow and frowned. He wasn't going to get to sleep anytime soon at this rate.   
  
"Doyle, are you ready to leave this 'interesting' establishment yet?" Aidan asked with more than a trace of annoyance in his voice. He drummed his fingers on the table top restlessly.   
  
"Nah, ye can go if ye want, but I'm stayin' fer awhile. The night is still young, Aidan! Definitely too early ta turn in."   
  
Aidan sighed and stood up. This was beginning to turn into a habit, and not one he was especially fond of. "All right, Doyle. You stay. I'm going to go back to my flat and get some sleep. I have an early meeting with the Council tomorrow." Aidan left a couple of twenty pound notes on the table. "That's for a taxi. Don't spend it on any more to drink," he warned.   
  
"Aye, I won't," Doyle promised, grabbing the money and shoving it into his pocket in a messy wad of bills. "I'll see ya later, Aidan."   
  
As Aidan was turning to leave, he heard a high pitched shriek from across the room. Whirling around, he saw that, even in his inebriated state, Doyle had heard it, too. Signaling for Doyle to follow him, he made his way over to the source of the sound. A group of young adults, not a one of them could be more than twenty years old or so at best, were clustered around a in a circle, laughing. The shrieks continued as Aidan shouldered his way through the group and spotted a young woman laying on the ground, covered with what appeared to be spilled ale.   
  
She was staring down at her ruined dress in dismay.   
  
"I can't believe you did this to me!" the brunette on the ground shrieked loudly. "Look at this dress! It's completely NOT fixable! And it was a Calvin Klein original! Do you have any idea how much my daddy paid for this ensemble?" She snorted in a very unladylike fashion. "No, you probably don't. You probably do your shopping in the English version of a Walmart! But let me assure you, this dress alone, and that's not even including the shoes or the purse, cost more than all of your salaries combined for at least a month! And now it's ruined!"   
  
Aidan tried not to laugh as he realized what was going on here. This spoiled little princess was obviously getting her just deserts. But, always the gentleman, he reached down and offered her his hand. "May I be of assistance, Miss...?"   
  
The girl looked up at him and he was struck by how beautiful her dark brown eyes were. "My name's Cordelia Chase," she said in a slightly pouty tone as she took his offered hand. He quickly pulled her to her feet and gave her a friendly smile.   
  
Suddenly, a voice from behind them asked,"Are ye okay, darlin'?"   
  
Cordelia turned around and came face to face with Doyle, who had just reached the scene. Scrunching her eyebrows together and pursing her lips distastefully, she said, "And just who are you supposed to be? My drunken Irish fairy godmother?"   
  
Doyle's mouth dropped and a dark blush quickly covered his cheeks. "Uh, no... I... erm... I was just..."   
  
Cordelia rolled her eyes. "Whatever." Dismissing Doyle, she turned and faced Aidan with a sweet smile on her lips. Throwing herself into his arms, she gave him a huge hug and exclaimed, "Thank you so much! You totally saved my life!"   
  
One of the boys from the group she'd been hanging out with rolled his eyes. "It was just a dress. Not life or death or anything." The group slowly dispersed, leaving Cordelia alone with her two new "friends."   
  
Aidan carefully disentangled himself from Cordelia's clutches and smiled somewhat uncomfortably. "Er... no thanks are necessary, I assure you, Miss Chase."   
  
"Please," she cried, waving her hand absently, "Call me Cordelia." Aidan nodded. "And you may call me Aidan." Gesturing in Doyle's direction, he added, "Oh, and this is my friend Doyle."   
  
Cordelia frowned. "You two know each other?" she demanded incredulously. She looked Doyle up and down, noting his unkept appearance and less than up to date fashion sense. Then her eyes turned to Aidan's nice suit and tie. "Unbelievable."   
  
Doyle pulled Aidan to the side as Cordelia was looking over her stained dress with a napkin, all about damage control. "Man, I think I've seen her before!"   
  
Aidan frowned. "What do you mean? Is she your friend or something? Because she didn't act like it."   
  
Doyle shook his head. "No, but I have seen her before. I know it. I just can't quite place her face." He gave Aidan a determined look. "But I will. Just give me time."   
  
"And some coffee," Aidan muttered under his breath.   
  
Cordelia coughed to get their attention. Then, sighing a long suffering sigh, she seemed to come to some kind of decision. "I suppose you two can have the privilege of escorting me back to my hotel." She eyed Doyle warily. "But you just keep your distance, pal." Then, giving Aidan a brilliant smile, she took his arm and led him to the door of the club.   
  
"Now Aidan, I assume you'll be paying for our taxi..."   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
The Plane   
  
"Nope."   
  
Buffy rolled her eyes at her seatmate. "Yep. Nope. That's all you've said this whole time, Oz! Aren't you going to tell me anything about you and Sonya?"   
  
"What's to tell?" Oz sat back in his seat comfortably and sipped the soda that had been brought earlier by an obliging flight attendant.   
  
"That's what I've been TRYING to find out!" Buffy groaned in frustration.   
  
"Something wrong up there?" Sonya called from her seat behind Buffy.   
  
A little embarrassed, Buffy answered, "No!"   
  
Oz slanted a look at the Slayer. "You can get more volume on your nosy questions if you speak from the diaphragm."   
  
"Come on, Oz!" Buffy begged, this time keeping her voice down to a low decibel.   
  
"I just want to know if you two are headed toward couple- dom any time soon. I'm one of your best friends. If you can't tell me, who can you tell?"   
  
"Why do you want to know so badly?" he asked.   
  
"Like I said, we're friends. It's my job to know these things. And besides, I've got to know that someone's love life is working out, even if only for the vicarious thrills."   
  
Oz took pity on Buffy and decided to answer her question. "OK, I'll tell you one thing."   
  
Buffy leaned forward eagerly. "I'm all ears."   
  
"I like her."   
  
She waited for a second, and when no more words were forthcoming, she demanded,   
  
"That's it? I already knew that!"   
  
Oz shrugged.   
  
Buffy finally gave up, and settled back in her seat. "Well, I'll tell you this. I think Sonya likes you. In my opinion, she likes you more than she realizes."   
  
"I thought I heard my name up there," Sonya called again. "Are you guys talking about me behind my back... erm... in front of my face, but behind a chair... oh, nevermind!" She paused before repeating, "But are you talking about me?"   
  
Then a shrill beeping sound erupted from Joyce's watch.   
  
"SWITCH!" Sonya yelled at the top of her lungs, startling the other passengers in first class. But she ignored all the odd looks she was getting, and moved to stand by Buffy. "I'll take your seat."   
  
"Is my mom that bad of a seat buddy?" Buffy whispered. Sonya looked Buffy straight in the eye. "She had... magnetic... checkers." Buffy nodded knowingly, surrendering the seat to Sonya. "Well, you two have fun." She was about to sit down next to her mother, when Xander sprang from his seat and dived into the chair next to Joyce. Buffy gave him an odd look.   
  
Xander gazed up at her with horror-filled eyes. "It's your turn."   
  
"My turn to what?" Buffy asked, unable to hide a small smile.   
  
"To sit with Giles!" Xander shivered, as if the memory were too much for him. "I can't do it again... I just can't."   
  
Buffy moved toward the last remaining seat. (How bad could it be?) she asked herself. Sitting down, she gave Giles a smile. "What's up?" Giles pulled a thick, old book out of his briefcase and placed it in her lap. She could feel its weight all the way down to the soles of her feet. Buffy looked at him mutely.   
  
"It's the Slayer's Handbook," Giles explained grimly. "I've never given it to you before, as you are more of a visual learner, and we have been rather busy of late. But I think that... before our meeting with the Council... you should bone up a bit."   
  
Staring at the book in horror, Buffy glared at the back of Xander's seat.   
  
(I'm going to get you for this, Xander!)   
  
Meanwhile, Xander was looking at Joyce with much the same distaste Buffy had show to the book. "What was that?" he asked, hoping he had misheard.   
  
Joyce grinned at him, shaking a red, plastic box. "I have travel checkers."   
  
He hadn't misheard. Xander shot her a disbelieving look, to which she replied cheerfully, "They're magnetic!" (There's got to be a way to get out of this) Xander thought frantically. (Think, man, think!) Then a brilliant idea struck him. He grinned, and reached into his pocket to pull out a small, rectangular box. Joyce's eyes widened as she recognized it as a deck of cards.   
  
"Checkers are for kids, Mrs. S.," Xander said with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "How about a game of poker?"   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
Aidan's Flat   
  
Doyle followed Aidan through the darkened flat, wincing in sympathy as he heard his friend yelp in pain when his knee struck the side of a wooden chair that had been left in the middle of the floor.   
  
"Sorry about that," he mumbled.   
  
Aidan finally reached the light switch and flipped it on, whirling around to face Doyle with an angry expression on his face. "I thought I told you to clean this place up today!" he practically growled, his patience stretched to the limit. "It's not like you had anything else to do while I was at work!"   
  
Doyle held up his hands in surrender, backing away from the angry Watcher. "I know ye did, man, and I meant ta do it..." Seeing that this wasn't making Aidan any happier, Doyle hastened to add, "But I'll straighten the place up right now, Aidan." As he began to pick up the various articles of clothing and junk strewn around the living room, he looked up at Aidan with a small smile. "See? I'm cleanin' now." He moved the chair back into its rightful spot by the kitchen table. "Witness me cleanin' up the joint."   
  
Aidan sighed and walked into his bedroom, slamming the door shut behind him. Doyle winced. Setting down his arm load of stuff in a pile on the floor, Doyle collapsed on the couch. "I'll finish the straightenin' in the mornin'," he murmured to himself as he drifted off to sleep.   
  
Snuggling into a comfortable position on the couch, he yawned sleepily. "I'll do it in the mornin'..."   
  
Seconds later, Doyle was fast asleep and snoring lightly. He didn't move for a long while. And then...   
  
Images pounded through Doyle's brain, one after another. His body jerked to a sitting position on the couch, though his mind was still in that other place. Fighting the pain that each flash caused him, Doyle struggled to make sense out of what he was seeing. A face... Cordelia Chase... looking as if she had never been more terrified in her entire life... A man with a gun... A scream... The gun was pointed at Cordelia... Tears leaked out of her eyes and her breath came in soft pants... A loud bang... A bullet piercing flesh... Another scream... Blood... It's bright crimson stickiness matting a girl's brown hair... Doyle opened his eyes with a start, placing his hand to his throbbing skull.   
  
It was still dark outside.   
  
"Oh, no... Cordelia..." Doyle whispered. "Lass, what kind of trouble have ye gotten yerself into now?"   
  
Doyle didn't bother waking Aidan up. The man needed his sleep. Besides, he probably wouldn't believe him anyway. He'd just say that Doyle was exaggerating things. Especially after the bust his last vision had turned out to be. Two months was a long time to wait with no results.   
  
Careful not to make any noise, Doyle pulled on his shoes and grabbed his leather jacket, heading for the door. As he sprinted down the stairs of Aidan's building and hailed a taxi, he just hoped that he was going to make it to Cordelia's hotel in time...   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
The Plane   
  
"Honey, aren't you supposed to be reading that book?" Joyce looked at the closed Slayer's Handbook on Buffy's lap.   
  
Buffy rolled her eyes at her mother. "I thought when I got away from Giles things would be better..." she said, only half teasing.   
  
"Sorry, honey," Joyce answered. "I didn't mean to be a nag. I just want you to be as prepared as you can be when we get to this compound. I want you to show those Watchers that you are the very best Slayer you can be."   
  
In front of Buffy, Xander's cards zipped as he shuffled them again. Then he laid them out in a familiar solitaire pattern. He glanced over at Oz in frustration. The boy was asleep-either that, or he was meditating with his eyes closed. With Oz, you never knew.   
  
(And to think that I thought sitting with Oz would be fun) Xander grumbled inwardly. (My age, my foot! He's some kind of cryptic Immortal caught in a teenaged body. And what's with the silence thing? From a distance it seemed the epitome of cool-now, I think it's just boring! The most fun I've had on this stupid flight was playing poker with Mrs. S., and she was creaming me!)   
  
The now-familiar beeping sound of Joyce's watch startled Xander out of his irritated meditation. He quickly swept his cards back into their box and yelled, "SWITCH!" Buffy and Sonya were on their feet immediately. They looked at each other. Then they looked at their companions.   
  
"I think we've exhausted all these seating possibilities," Xander announced.   
  
"One of you guys is going to have to move if we're going to continue this... game."   
  
"Mom," Buffy suggested in a mild tone, "why don't you go sit with Giles?"   
  
Joyce gathered her things together and made the move cheerfully. "Sounds good to me. I will be glad for some adult conversation. No offense, guys."   
  
"None taken," Buffy replied. Then she looked at Sonya and Xander. The three glanced at each other, and then at the seats. There weren't many options left. Then Sonya plopped down next to Oz.   
  
"Hey!" Buffy protested. "You already sat with Oz."   
  
"We've all already sat with Oz," Sonya pointed out matter-of-factly.   
  
"She has a point," Xander noted. Then he gestured to the two remaining seats.   
  
"Window or aisle?"   
  
Buffy slid into the window seat quietly. Xander sat down next to her. In front of her, Buffy could hear Sonya and a newly-awakened Oz murmuring. Behind her, she could make out bits and pieces of her mother's conversation with Giles. Between herself and Xander, silence reigned.   
  
"So..." Buffy said finally.   
  
"So..." Xander replied. They looked at each other.   
  
"Well?" Buffy prompted. "You're the one who wanted this little chat. Should we just jump into it, or should we have some small talk first? I could borrow the magnetic checkers from Mom."   
  
"Please, no!" Xander shuddered.   
  
Buffy watched him shift uncomfortably in his padded seat. She noticed the dark circles under his eyes. That made her remember the expression on his face that morning at the library. "How are you doing, Xander? For real, I mean, not just small talk. You haven't quite seemed yourself today."   
  
"It was a rough morning," Xander admitted.   
  
Nothing else seemed forthcoming. Buffy remembered this. Sometimes, he would look so sad or so mad, but he'd just clam up. She'd never been able to get him to open up when he was like this. But somehow, she couldn't stop trying.   
  
"Was it something at home?" she asked. "You know... even after all this time, I don't know much about your family." Buffy knew there were problems in the Harris household, but the only time he'd ever actually talked about it, his mission had been to convince her mother to let him stay overnight because Willow and Spike had been waiting for him outside. She'd told him to make something up, and after that, she'd never known how much of the story was based in reality. And when she'd tried to find out, Xander always changed the subject.   
  
"It's nothing for you to worry about," Xander answered.   
  
Buffy reached out and touched his arm. "You can tell me..."   
  
"I don't want to talk about it!" Xander replied, pulling his arm away and staring at the back of Sonya's seat.   
  
Glaring, Buffy spoke through gritted teeth. "You never want to talk about whatever it is that makes you look so sad that I hurt inside. I worry about you, damn it!"   
  
"You do?" Xander looked deep into her eyes.   
  
"Of course, I do." Buffy stared right back, never wavering. "We may have our problems, but I'll never stop caring."   
  
"If I were going to talk to anyone about it, Buffy, it would be you. But right now... I just... I just can't. There aren't any words..." His voice cracked, and he stopped talking. He sat still for a moment, concentrating solely on breathing in and out, and controlling the tears in his eyes. But he couldn't control them. Buffy reached up and pulled his head down onto her shoulder, letting him cry there. His emotions came softly, but she could tell they ran deep. If they'd been alone, she knew the storm would have been much louder.   
  
"Shh..." she murmured, stroking his hair with light, gentle fingers. "I'm here, Xander."   
  
"For how long?" he whispered in a voice so soft that she almost didn't hear him. Buffy looked down at the back of his head, noticing how her soft breath lightly ruffled his dark hair. Then, it hit her. She wasn't the only one hurting as a result of everything that had happened with Sonya and Nathan. Of course, she'd known that theoretically, but she had been so focused on her own pain during the last few months that she hadn't even thought about how much it was killing Xander to be so alone. After all, he had not only lost her, but he had also lost his best friend when things between himself and Sonya became so strained. Suddenly, like in one of those revelations that she'd thought only happened in the movies, she realized that, even though it would be hard, she *had* to make things right between herself and Xander. She loved him too much to watch him suffer any longer.   
  
Pulling his face up so that she could look into his eyes, she answered in a soft but determined voice, "For as long as you'll have me, Xander."   
  
He pulled back and looked her in the eyes again as if he couldn't believe what he heard. And Buffy couldn't blame him if he didn't believe her.   
  
After a second, she said, "But if you don't..."   
  
Xander stopped that comment by pulling her into a searing kiss. It was a kiss of pure emotion and a way for them to share that emotion, all wrapped up in one. Then Buffy pushed him away a little. His face fell. This had happened so many times before over the past weeks. This time it had lasted longer, but with the same result. "You're seeing me with her again, aren't you?" he muttered. "Like always. So much for forever."   
  
"No!" Buffy burst out. Glancing around nervously, she lowered her voice, but it was filled with urgency as she continued. "I didn't see you with Sonya. For the first time since that awful night, that image was completely gone.   
  
It was such a shock, I just had to tell you."   
  
Xander looked at her incredulously for a moment, then he pulled her back into his embrace. They hugged tightly. When the embrace loosened, Buffy leaned her head on his shoulder and sighed contentedly, feeling better than she had in a long time.   
  
"Never let me go, Xander," she whispered.   
  
Giving her a soft kiss on the crown of her head, Xander simply said, "I love you, Buffy."   
  
"Me, too," Buffy replied. "I love you, too."   
  
A brief smile flashed across his face. "Good."   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
The Watchers Compound   
  
Driving had always been one of Aidan's favorite pastimes. Even the drive from London to the Watchers Compound usually gave him pleasure. But today, it didn't. He spent the whole ride fuming.   
  
"'I'll straighten the place up right now, Aidan!' What a liar!" Aidan's knuckles turned white as he gripped the steering while extra-tight -- pretending it was Doyle's neck. "Stupid flat was still just as messy... And that note! 'Aidan, had another vision. Finish cleaning later. Doyle.' What kind of excuse it that? If it were a real vision, maybe, but he hasn't had a vision since he got here, and the other vision sure hasn't panned out..." He sighed-even though the first vision had yet to prove itself, Aidan knew enough to think there was still something to it.   
  
After a pause, Aidan grumbled, "When I get home, I'm just cleaning the place up myself." He cringed as he pictured the heaps of clothes and whatever moldy dishes Doyle had left underneath said piles of clothes and other junk. When Aidan had left that morning, he'd smelled something foul in the living room. The thought made him shudder.   
  
"I little mess I can take, but do I have to live in a sty?" he asked. Then he realized he was talking to himself, and very vividly, too. (Now, he's making me insane as well!) he through with a scowl. (He's like a brother to me, but how much of this am I supposed to take?)   
  
A few minutes later, a suitably calmed down Aidan pulled up to the gate that surrounded the Watchers Compound. During business hours, there was always a guard stationed in the little room next to the gate. Aidan rolled down his window, waved to the familiar man in a gray uniform, and the man pushed the button that allowed Aidan to drive up the long, circular driveway and up to the enormous mansion that made up the bulk of the Compound. Aidan left his car in front of the mansion instead of driving around to the parking lot in the back because he was already almost late. As it was, he would have just enough time to get to get to the upstairs room where his important meeting was to take place.   
  
He made his way upstairs at a sedated trot, and paused outside the door to the Proconsul's suite. Taking a deep breath and smoothing his hair, Aidan knocked briskly on the door and then entered the outer office. He nodded to Marcus Whiteman III, the Proconsul's attache. "Good day, Marcus. Ready for the meeting?"   
  
Marcus looked up from his papers. "Just so, Aidan. Everyone else is already assembled in the lesser council room. Follow me."   
  
Aidan followed obediently. He rarely ever entered the Proconsul's inner sanctum. Only the upper echelons of the Council were allowed to do that with regularity. And as a Watcher, the twenty-eight-year-old Aidan was still on the young side. His day job as a museum curator allowed him to keep learning and gave him time for whatever missions the Council needed him to accomplish.   
  
"Will Proconsul Chamberlain be joining us this morning?" Aidan asked, as they made their way down a small hall, past several offices and other rooms. Aidan darted a glance at the imposing double doors at the head of the hallway. They opened into the Proconsul's impressive office, where the most carefully guarded secrets of the Council were kept. Aidan didn't really think the Proconsul would be a part of the meeting-Sidney Chamberlain should have more important things to do. But he had to ask, just in case.   
  
Marcus shook his head. "He had other obligations." The other man's clipped tone sounded colder than usual. It made Aidan a trifle nervous. Perhaps this wasn't the ordinary meeting Aidan had supposed. But before he could reflect on that any longer, Marcus opened the door to the lesser council room and ushered Aidan inside.   
  
As he took his seat, Aidan looked around the table. There were only three others present-Marcus, of course, there with his requisite steno pad; an older gentleman, Edmund Barrows, one of the Proconsul's most trusted advisors; and in the corner sat a woman with her blonde hair up in a tight chignon-Gwendolyn Post, the up-and-coming second in command of the Council.   
  
Aidan swallowed nervously at this exalted company, but he kept his composure. If he could stay calm under the threat of demon invasion, he would not lose his face just because he was facing more high ranking officers than usual. "Good day, Mr. Barrows, Ms. Post."   
  
"Mr. O'Shea," Barrows replied. "Thank you for taking the time to be here today."   
  
"Of course, Mr. Barrows. You know I'm happy to come." Aidan glanced around the table and right into the icy eyes of the silent Ms. Post. He looked away, and noticed a small smirk on Marcus's face. Clearing his throat, Aidan added, "But if I may ask, sir, what is the purpose of this rather unusual meeting?"   
  
"It is you, Mr. O'Shea."   
  
"Me?" Aidan looked at Barrows in surprise. "Have I done something?"   
  
"Not you, precisely... your flatmate."   
  
"Doyle?" Aidan paused, carefully considering his words. He had a bad feeling that he now knew what this meeting was about. "I'm afraid you'll have to be more specific, sir."   
  
Barrows leaned forward across the table. Annoyance and something else flashed in his hazel eyes. Each of his words were carefully enunciated for maximum effect. "Mr. O'Shea, you brought this character into our organization. You let him know the truth of what we are and what we do..."   
  
"But, sir," Aidan interrupted, "only because of his vision. He's had these visions before, and they've always come true. There are dangerous things happening here, and we have to be prepared." Aidan neglected to mention that Doyle had known of the existence of the Watchers for much longer than the past two months. That youthful folly would only get him in more trouble now.   
  
"So you said when you first raised hue and cry over this so-called vision," Barrows replied. "But nothing has happened. We allowed you to bring in this Doyle creature, and it has all come to naught."   
  
"We just have to be patient." Aidan ran his fingers through his hair. "We can't allow whatever is going on to take us by surprise."   
  
"There is enough going on here with the tribunal and the Slayer's arrival." Barrows gave Aidan a stern look. "Proconsul Chamberlain agrees with me. There will be no more talk of these visions. You've always been a stellar Watcher in the past, Mr. O'Shea, so we will not hold this lapse against you. However, you must get rid of this 'visionary' Irishman so we can focus on the important things. He and his ideas create havoc that we simply cannot have right now. In fact, I recommended, and the Proconsul agrees with me, that you should cut all ties to Mr. Doyle immediately."   
  
"But, sir..." Aidan was stunned. "He's one of my oldest friends."   
  
"If that is more important to you than your job... your job saving the world, then..." Barrows left the threat dangling.   
  
Aidan looked around the table, a sinking feeling in his stomach. "No... of course not," he protested.   
  
Barrows sat back in his chair. "Good. Then we will expect you to get rid of Mr. Doyle as soon as possible."   
  
Looking around the table, Aidan found no sympathy. Marcus smirked at him from over his steno pad. Aidan wasn't surprised at that-he and Marcus were of a similar age and had been rivals all throughout their training. Ms. Post just watched the whole interchange quietly, her face unreadable.   
  
Finally, Aidan agreed. "Yes, Mr. Barrows."   
  
"I'm glad you are so willing to see reason, Mr. O'Shea," Barrows said. Moving on to other matters, he added, "You'll be back tomorrow to greet Mr. Giles and his guests."   
  
"Of course," Aidan agreed, pushing back the emotions swirling about his head to deal with later.   
  
"Don't I remember that Mr. Giles was your mentor during training?" Barrows asked.   
  
"Yes, sir," Aidan replied. "He passed his museum job on to me when he was called to active duty."   
  
"Take my advice, Mr. O'Shea," Barrows stated bluntly. "I wouldn't associate myself with him too much. Your reputation among the Council members is precarious enough as it is after this whole vision fiasco."   
  
"Yes, sir," Aidan agreed. He would do anything to just get out of there.   
  
"Good," Barrows said. "I'm glad you're being so reasonable about all of this."   
  
"Is that all, Mr. Barrows?" Aidan asked.   
  
"Yes, you may go. And we'll see you tomorrow."   
  
"Yes." Aidan hurriedly stood, and with a nod to Barrows and Ms. Post, he hurried out of the room. As he made his way back down to his car, Aidan couldn't sort out all his emotions, but somehow it seemed as if his life had just blown up in his face.   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
The Plane   
  
Joyce looked up from her book when she heard her watch begin to beep. Shutting the alarm off, she shifted in her seat, prepared to announce that it was time for another seat change. But when she saw the others, she stopped herself from speaking. Then she smiled.   
  
"Looks like things are finally working out," she murmured to herself. In the seats directly in front of her and the snoozing Giles, she could see the tops of Buffy and Xander's heads. They were both obviously asleep, his arm slung protectively around her shoulders and her head resting against his chest. In front of them, Sonya and Oz were asleep as well, leaning on each other with their heads touching.   
  
"How adorable," Joyce sighed. Reaching into her bag, she pulled out her camera and stood up, careful not to make any noise. She didn't want to wake any of them up. Moving into the aisle, where she had a better view for her picture, she snapped a few shots of each of the sleeping couples, grinning widely. Then she sat back down in her seat and snapped her seatbelt back on, placing her camera away in her bag.   
  
Giles, who was now awake and slowly wiping the sleep from his groggy eyes, asked, "Is it time for a seat change again, Joyce?" Joyce shook her head, indicating the sleeping teenagers in front of them.   
  
"Nah, let's just let them sleep."   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
The Ritz Hotel, London   
  
Doyle adjusted the collar of his newly 'acquired' bellhop uniform for the umpteenth time, amazed at how uncomfortable it was. "Ye'd think that at a fancy place like this, they'd have enough money ta give the hired help decent clothin' or something," he muttered sourly. He glanced down at the bag in his hands. It held his other clothing, including his treasured leather jacket. He'd thought about hiding his bag of clothes in the closet were he'd left the tied-up and unconscious bellhop, but eventually decided against it. He didn't want to chance loosing it.   
  
Doyle glanced at his watch. It was early afternoon. "When is that girl gonna leave her room again... at the turn of the century?"   
  
Sighing, Doyle slumped down next to a potted plant that was located across the hall from the door to Cordelia Chase's suite. He had gone straight to her hotel as soon as he'd managed to recover from the vision, determined to protect her. But once he'd gotten to her room, he'd realized that he didn't know what to do next. He couldn't just knock and say,   
  
"Hello, Cordelia. Remember me? We met at a club last night when ye were fawnin' over my friend, Aidan. I know that this comes as a shock, but I happen to be half demon, on my father's side, and I get these pesky visions 'o doom from the Powers That Be sometimes. And my latest vision told me that ye were in danger. So here I am, dressed as a bellhop so that the hotel security will leave me alone and ready to protect ye. Can I come in?" That just wouldn't work. So he'd sat down and waited. Hoping to figure out a better plan in time. On the up side, while he'd been sitting around outside her door, twiddling his thumbs, he'd finally remembered where he'd seen Cordelia before. She'd been one of the three young woman held at gunpoint in his first vision.   
  
So now he knew that this was more than just coincidence. Everything he'd seen in his vision was coming together. And he rather wished that it wasn't.   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
Gatwick Airport   
  
Cordelia got out of the taxi, handing the driver a wad of bills. Obviously, she'd given him more money than necessary, but he was cute, so she didn't really mind. Turning away with a last smile for his benefit, Cordelia slung her purse over her shoulder and made her way into the airport. As she walked, her heels clicked loudly on the pavement.   
  
Once inside the building, she made her way to the information desk. When a young blonde woman in a brown uniform came up to stand behind the counter, Cordelia raised her chin and began to tell the woman about her plight.   
  
"Now, I was understanding when my daddy told me that I'd have to come to this stupid country instead of vacationing in the Caribbean like he'd promised. And I was even willing to deal with the loser kids that he left me with while he went to his business meeting. And when they ruined my dress, I didn't complain too much. But the fact that half of my luggage was lost during the flight over here is just the last straw! Now you better have found it, like the guy that called me this morning said, or I'll just have to call my daddy and let him know what's going on." Cordelia leaned forward and fixed the woman with her steely gaze. "And believe me, you *really* don't want me to do that."   
  
The woman remained unaffected by Cordelia's tirade. "Name, please." She waited for Cordelia's answer with a pen poised above her notepad.   
  
"Cordelia Chase," the brunette replied, as if it were obvious.   
  
The blonde nodded and made a note on her notepad. "Yes, we have your name right here. Your luggage has been found and is waiting for you at baggage claim 6." Gesturing to a short, balding man, she added, "James will escort you there."   
  
Cordelia glanced over the small man and replied, "I suppose that will be acceptable."   
  
As he led her away, Cordelia glanced over her shoulder and frowned, quickly turning back around. He was still there. He'd been following her since she left the hotel, but she'd just thought that she'd been imagining things at first. After all, what would a random bellhop want with her? But he was still back there and it was starting to make her very nervous. Then Cordelia stiffened her spine and followed James with her head held high. They were in a public place-though the one-runway airport was tiny compared to LAX-there was no way the bellhop stalker could do anything to her.   
  
James paused by the baggage carrousel. The first suitcase-not one of hers -- was just cresting over the top of the machine. "It should come up here any moment. It missed the flight from California, so we had it shipped on the next flight."   
  
"It's the least you could have done," Cordelia replied, distracted from her stalker by the precarious luggage situation. "I've been dying without my hair dryer and my Sketchers. Now you'd better just wait right here until the bags get here, because if all four of them are not here and intact, I'm going to have to speak to your supervisor."   
  
"Yes, miss," James replied. "I had no intention of leaving." Passengers surged all around them. Cordelia was jostled several times as hurried men, women and children snatched bags from around her.   
  
"How rude!" she remarked loudly, hoping to chasten them.   
  
On the other side of the room, Giles and Joyce led their charges slowly toward the baggage carrouselel. They had to take their time due to Oz and his crutches.   
  
"Why did we bring you with us again?" Buffy teased her friend. Xander squeezed her hand, which had somehow found its way into hers during the walk up from the plane. "You remember, he and his crutches are our ticket to special treatment and early boarding."   
  
"You just have to put up with my slowness now," Oz added with a good-natured smile.   
  
"It's all for the best," Joyce added. "Look, most of the other people have already gotten their things."   
  
The other looked around, and true to her words, the crowd was rapidly dissipating.   
  
"That means our stuff will be easier to find," Buffy cried, pulling Xander along toward the carrousel. She scanned the moving track, but didn't see any familiar bags. Then she heard something that made her wince.   
  
"Where are my bags, Mr. Airport Guy? You said they were on this flight!" Buffy turned to the side and came face-to-face with none other than Cordelia Chase. "What are you doing here? I thought you were going to the Caribbean."   
  
Cordelia's face grew even more horrified. "Nooo! I'm going to kill you, Daddy," she groaned.   
  
Xander and Buffy looked at each other in confusion. "Um... Cordelia. I'm Xander Harris-not Daddy."   
  
"Unless there's something you're not telling me," Buffy said with a smirk.   
  
Cordelia rolled her eyes. "My father forced me to spend my Spring Break in this boring country where there's nothing to do but go to museums and see huge clocks, and to top it all off you dweebs are here, too! This must be the worst Spring Break ever!"   
  
"Thanks, Cordelia," Buffy said with a frown. "Great to see you, too. Really. Now, if you'll excuse us, we're going to get our stuff and leave you to... whatever."   
  
"Er... not to break up this touching reunion," Giles inserted, "but there's something odd going on here."   
  
Cordelia's eyes widened. "You're on a trip with the LIBRARIAN? The epitome of un-cool. I'm so glad no one important is here to see me speaking to you guys!"   
  
Buffy looked at Giles. "What's wrong?"   
  
Giles gestured to the rest of the room. "Don't you think it's odd that everyone but us has suddenly disappeared?"   
  
They all looked around the room, and saw that Giles was right.   
  
"What the heck?" Sonya muttered, moving up to stand next to Buffy.   
  
"This is weird," Xander commented.   
  
"Things are always weird when you guys are involved," Cordelia said, turning away from them.   
  
James met her eyes with a small smile. "I wouldn't exactly call this weird." Cordelia raised an eyebrow at the man's familiarity, when suddenly a yell from the other side of the room attracted everyone's attention. A demon with a green, spiny face had emerged from behind a potted tree in the corner. Oddly enough, he was wearing a bellhop uniform. Cordelia screamed, and took a step back. James grabbed her arm, and pulled her next to him.   
  
Buffy took one look at the demon and ran for him. A flying kick knocked him down, and the pair went rolling onto the floor.   
  
"No!" the demon protested through her punches. "Not me-him!"   
  
That remark startled Buffy enough to make her stop pummelling him. And then she heard Cordelia gasp. Buffy looked back and saw James holding a small gun, complete with a silencer, on the irritating brunette. Everyone froze.   
  
The bellhop-demon laying underneath Buffy pushed her to the side and stood up, the spines on his face dissolving away to reveal an ordinary looking man. "I told ye, I'm not the one ye want." His voice was tense, and his eyes hardened as he watched every move James made. "It's him."   
  
Cordelia, from her position next to the gun-wielding airport man, gasped. "Doyle?" Her eyes narrowed. "What the hell are *you* doing here?" 


	7. Chapter 6

In the Space of a Journey  
Chapter Six   
  
Sunnydale -- the Condo   
  
There was a meeting set for the remaining defenders of Sunnydale at Giles's condo/defense headquarters just after sundown. Angel was the first to arrive, which was lucky since he had the key. He inserted the key in the lock, and walked through the front door. As he closed the door behind him and started to reach for the light something grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his back. An instant later, there was a knife pointed at his throat.   
  
Angel stiffened, but didn't move. The knife couldn't be lethal, of course -- the odds of decapitation with such a small blade were pretty slim. He wasn't really worried because he knew exactly who was standing behind him. "Faith. How did you get in without a key?"   
  
"Among other things, I excelled in lock picking class during training." The breath from her husky whisper tickled his ear.   
  
"So you decided a little breaking and entering would be in order?" Angel asked, putting as much disapproval into his tone as possible.   
  
If Faith though it was odd for them to be having a normal conversation while she held him at knifepoint, she didn't say so. If anything, her tone was diffident. "I was bored."   
  
"Ah..."   
  
In moves so fast they almost became one, Angel grabbed her wrist with his free hand, twisted her knife hand away from him and spun around to face her, pinning her against the door. The knife clattered to the floor.   
  
"Well, well, well," Faith said in surprise. "Now that you have me here, what *are* you going to do with me?"   
  
"Give you a lesson in manners? Or perhaps just a good spanking." As soon as his last words were out of his mouth, Angel realized the double entendre.   
  
A seductive smile curved her lips. "Bring it on, baby."   
  
For a second, Angel was tempted. Her lips were inches from his own. Then he grunted as Faith's knee ground itself into his stomach. If he'd had breath, that would have knocked it out of him. As it was, the maneuver gave Faith the leeway she needed to escape.   
  
"Too late." She scooped the knife up off the floor, sheathed it in its spot on her belt, and then strolled casually into the living room, leaving Angel staring after her. A sharp rapping on the door at his back brought Angel back from his reverie. He turned and opened the door. Nicole and the two male commandos walked in single file. They strode past Angel without a single glance and walked into the living room portion of the condo.   
  
"Report," Faith ordered her crew.   
  
"Sector One, west side, clear as of sunset," Nicole replied crisply.   
  
"Sector Two, south side, clear," Rio added.   
  
"Sector Three, east side, clear," Terrance said briskly. "Sector Four, north side, clear of supernatural threats as of sunset. However, I did derail the plans of a mugger on my way here."   
  
The commando leader's duty face softened as she rewarded Terrance with a pleased smile. "And Terrance wins the gold star for today, guys. He covered two sectors and still had time to stop a mugger."   
  
Terrance accepted the praise with a nod of his blond head.   
  
Angel strolled into the room and looked at Faith questioningly. "You divided Sunnydale into sectors?"   
  
"Sunnydale and the outlying countryside," Faith replied. "Standard tactical operating procedure -- divide the territory and survey for both threats and sites that need watching." She put her hands on her hips and gave him her most belligerent look. "Got a problem with that, vampire?"   
  
"Just curious." Angel extended his hands in a non-threatening gesture. "We're supposed to be helping each other, remember? And the name's Angel."   
  
Rio smirked. "Angel the vampire. What an oxymoron!"   
  
Angel's eyes darkened and he advanced slowly on the dark, slender youth. He guessed that Rio was about seventeen. Angel outweighed him by at least sixty pounds and had many more years of experience. "I wouldn't be picking on other people's names, if I were you," the vampire growled, exerting all the intimidation he could muster without putting on his game face. "Especially when your name means river. Was your mother quite fond of some nearby stream, River Boy?" Angel realized the lameness of his insult, but he couldn't think of another way to make fun of the pipsqueak boy's name.   
  
Rio's face darkened with fury and he lunged at Angel. Angel counted easily, and in one move flipped the youth and dropped him to the living room floor. Faith was in his face immediately.   
  
"Get away from him!"   
  
"Who's gonna make me?" Angel sneered, but deep inside, he was enjoying this battle of wills with the feisty commando leader.   
  
"I will."   
  
Everyone turned at the new voice to see Jenny and Amy standing in the doorway.   
  
"The door was open," Amy said quietly, following Jenny into the room.   
  
Jenny stopped next to Angel. "Having fun?"   
  
Looking suitably abashed, Angel stepped away from Faith and Rio. "We were just working out a few issues," he said.   
  
"I see..." Jenny gave all three of them her best "displeased teacher" look, especially Faith and Angel. "When I let Giles leave you two in charge, I thought you could handle it. I'm very disappointed in you. Especially you, Angel. You, of all of them, should know better."   
  
When she focused her eyes on him, Angel felt their chill. It seemed more than the situation warranted. Then he thought about how childish this competition with Faith was, and he resolved not to do it any more. At least not just then.   
  
Next to him, Faith chortled. Jenny turned her wrath on the brunette in the black cat suit, regardless of the arsenal strapped at her waist. "Does something about this situation amuse you?" Jenny demanded. "Is it, perhaps, all the lives at risk while we sit here bickering among ourselves instead of patrolling? I would have thought the Council a more stern task-master than that."   
  
Faith's smile vanished, and she stood stiffly. "Are you questioning..."   
  
"Let's get down to business," Angel interrupted. Both women turned snapping gazes on him, but realizing that he was right, they subsided. Angel turned to face them all. "Faith and her team have divided the town and outlying areas into four sectors. A-team, Terrance and Nicole, will take Sectors One and Two, and B-team will take Sectors Three and Four."   
  
Jenny glanced suspiciously at Angel and Faith. "I assume the two of you are B-team?"   
  
Angel nodded once.   
  
"Can you handle that responsibility?"   
  
"Don't worry," Angel assured her.   
  
Jenny looked deep into his eyes. Angel stared back into hers, wondering what the witch was thinking. Suddenly, she dropped back, satisfied somehow, though there was still something else in her eyes -- something he couldn't identify. She moved away to sit on the couch next to Amy.   
  
Unable to be silent and leave the command of the situation to others for another second, Faith announced, "Rio, you're staying with them." She hooked her thumb toward Jenny and Amy.   
  
Rio followed her gaze with a look of displeasure on his face. "What? You're taking me off active duty?"   
  
"You didn't tell him?" Angel looked at Faith in surprise.   
  
Faith's attention was on Rio. "Are you questioning my orders?"   
  
"But... I haven't done anything wrong, have I?" Rio saw the thunderous look on his commander's face, and immediately sucked up his unhappiness and doubt. "No, I'm not questioning orders! I will stay behind."   
  
"Good." Faith paused, and when she had determined Rio had suffered enough, she took pity on him and added, "You and the witches should be beneficial for each other."   
  
Rio nodded and put on his stoic face, though his reluctance was obvious.   
  
Angel looked at Jenny. "Are you three staying here?" Jenny nodded in response.   
  
Faith pulled a radio out of her waistband. "We each have one of these, so call if you need us." She looked at Nicole and Terrance, but ignored Angel. "We move out in ten minutes. Check your gear and be ready." Then she vanished in the direction of the bathroom.   
  
If he hadn't actually wanted to leave in the next ten minutes, Angel would have fought with Faith on it just for the principle of the thing. Instead, he just stored up the insult with all the others she'd given him since her arrival until he could exact payback later, when duty was over.   
  
Jenny walked over to him, interrupting his thoughts. "We should go over what the three of us will do while the rest of you patrol." Angel nodded, and the two of them stepped away into Giles's study.   
  
Watching them go, Amy felt strangely alone. She eyed the three commandos warily, unsure of how to act around them. She darted a shy smile toward Nicole, but the red head turned away and started checking her gear. Next, Amy looked toward Rio who was standing next to the couch. "So, you're a warlock... How long have you been training?"   
  
"Long enough." His dark-eyed gaze wasn't very welcoming.   
  
"Rio, spot check me?" Nicole called from the other side of the room. The young warlock turned and walked away without another word. Amy sighed and sat back on the couch. It looked like she was in for a long, lonely week. For a minute she wished she was in England with the others. Not that Amy regretted giving her ticket to Joyce -- Joyce had always been great to her, and mothers should be allowed to be there for their daughters -- but for the first time since she'd come back from Europe, Amy felt completely alone, even though there were three people in the room with her.   
  
The leather couch cushions squeaked and sank in as someone sat down next to her. Amy glanced over and saw the blond commando, Terrance, looking at her. "Run out of gear to check?" she asked bitterly.   
  
"You'll have to excuse my companions," Terrance said. "Well mannered they are not."   
  
She wrinkled her forehead in surprise. "And why are you so different?"   
  
"My mother would say it's just good breeding." He smiled and Amy's heart skipped a beat.   
  
"So, what would you say?" She couldn't help but return his smile. He was extremely good looking, and got more so, the longer she looked at him. And when he smiled, his blue eyes sparkled and cute dimples appeared in his cheeks.   
  
"I'd think about saying maybe it's seeing such a pretty girl, but I wouldn't actually say that because it would sound like a come on line."   
  
Amy laughed. Just then, Faith came back in the room, closely followed by Angel and Jenny.   
  
"Let's move out," Faith ordered.   
  
With one last glance at Amy, Terrance stood and fell in line with Faith, Nicole and Angel as they headed for the door.   
  
"Don't play the hero, any of you," Jenny warned as the four patrollers headed out the front door. "Most likely you'll just see the usual vampires, but if you see anything unusually unusual radio in and rendezvous back here." When they were gone, Jenny turned to Rio and Amy. "And now it's time for us to get on with our lessons. Amy, help me set things up in here, and Rio... lose the belt."   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
England -- Gatwick Airport   
  
Everyone froze when they saw James, whom they'd figured for a mild mannered airport employee, holding a gun on Cordelia.   
  
"Treat low-level employees bad and it will come back to haunt you," Xander quipped despite the anxiety in his eyes.   
  
Sonya elbowed him in the ribs. "Shut up, Xander."   
  
"What is it you want?" Cordelia wailed, her eyes fixed on the gun in horror. "My daddy is rich. He'll pay you any ransom you want."   
  
"Sorry," James replied calmly. "My orders don't allow for ransoms, as tempting as it is. Then again, do you think he'd actually pay to have you back again with all your griping and complaining? He might just be glad to get rid of you. I know I will be!"   
  
Cordelia stifled a sob behind a well-manicured hand.   
  
"Now," James ordered, "I want you..." He pointed to Doyle who stood next to Buffy a little bit away from the rest of the group. "... over here next to the beauty queen."   
  
Slowly, Doyle moved toward Cordelia and James with his hands outstretched in the universal sign for peace. "Just keep yerself calm, man... Just keep calm..."   
  
"Oh, I'm calm," James replied, a manic grin on his lips. "I'm plenty calm. And I'll be even calmer when I have the rest of my payment in my pocket."   
  
"Who's paying you?" Buffy demanded, but she didn't move. The gun was still trained on Cordelia.   
  
"Wouldn't you like to know?" James sneered.   
  
"I think a more opportune question would be, how many of us are they paying you to kill?" Giles looked at James speculatively.   
  
"Let's see..." Ignoring Giles, James inched the gun over so it pointed toward Doyle's chest. "... who's gonna be first?" The gun moved toward Giles. "Eeny..." Then back to Cordelia. "Meeny..." Over toward Xander. "Miney..." Then it snapped back to Doyle. "Moe." James stared down the barrel at the half-demon. "Say good-bye, vision-boy."   
  
"Look, man... let's talk about this before ye go and do somethin' rash!" Doyle's adam's apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed nervously.   
  
"Nope." The click as James pulled the trigger resounded throughout the empty room. Then, just as the gun fired, Sonya launched herself in front of Doyle. Doyle fell to the floor, and the bullet embedded itself in Sonya's shoulder. A circle of blood blossomed on her white shirt as she crumpled to the floor on top of Doyle, motionless.   
  
Doyle looked up and saw blood matting the hair of the girl on top of him -- the girl who'd sacrificed her life for him, a stranger -- and recognized a piece of his latest vision. (I knew an' I still could nae stop it) he thought, guilt seeping in amongst his fear and anger at the situation.   
  
The girl whimpered in pain. Doyle touched her shoulder and felt his fingers go sticky with her blood. "Try not ta move, lass. We'll get help as soon as we can..."   
  
As soon as Sonya made her move, Buffy ran toward James. She covered the yards in a few running steps that were almost leaps. Then she sprang towards the gunman, her legs extended in a kick. Her aim was true, and she knocked the gun out of his hand. Xander pushed past Cordelia -- who shrieked -- and he grabbed James, pinioning the gunman's arms behind his back.   
  
"Tell us who you work for!" Buffy advanced threateningly towards James. She slapped her fist into her palm, indicating violence to come. Her grin said she'd enjoy inflicting it, too.   
  
"Never," James growled.   
  
"Are ye all bleedin' daft?" Doyle exclaimed from the floor where he had Sonya cradled in his lap. "The girl's dyin' here, and yer concentratin' on interrogation? We've gotta call an ambulance!"   
  
That brief moment of distraction was all James needed. He pulled himself out of Xander's grasp and made a run for the door on the other side of the room. Immediately, Buffy took off after him, and Xander followed. Doyle watched them in disbelief as the circle of blood on Sonya's white shirt deepened to a dark crimson.   
  
"It's OK," Oz said, though his face was paler than usual as he looked down on the silent Sonya.   
  
"OK?" Doyle demanded incredulously. "She's gonna die if we donae do somethin' quick!"   
  
"I'm fine."   
  
Doyle's jaw dropped and Cordelia gasped as Sonya opened her eyes and stood up as if nothing had happened. Giles reached down and gave Doyle a hand up. "She heals instantaneously," he explained.   
  
"See?" Sonya pulled the hole in her shirt open just enough so they could see the puncture-free skin of her shoulder. "All better now." Then she frowned as she looked at the mess the blood made on her white shirt. "Damn it! This was one of my favorite shirts. And look at the mess it made of my hair!"   
  
Joyce took her sweater off and helped Sonya into it, tucking her hair below the collar. "There, that should cover the blood long enough for us to get out of the airport."   
  
Just then Buffy and Xander reappeared, tired and empty-handed.   
  
"What happened?" Giles asked.   
  
"He's gone." Buffy shook her head, frowning angrily. "He got into the terminal, and disappeared. We couldn't find him in the crowd."   
  
"He might have gone into one of the personnel-only passageways," Xander suggested. "I don't know."   
  
"What should we do now?" Buffy looked to Giles.   
  
The Watcher shook his head. "I suppose we should report this to the airport authorities. It was a man, not hellspawn for once. Perhaps this is something best left to the local authorities."   
  
"No," Doyle interjected. "That will do no good. The guys that sent him cannae be touched by the local authorities. They'll have supernatural protection."   
  
"Who are you talking about?" Sonya asked.   
  
"Who are you anyway?" Buffy wanted to know.   
  
"Drunken Irish fairy god-mother," Cordelia mumbled hysterically from behind her hands. Doyle flushed with embarrassment.   
  
Xander gripped Cordelia on the shoulder. "Get ahold of yourself, Cordy." She bit her lip and held in any other comments.   
  
"Me name's Doyle," Doyle said, redirecting attention away from Cordelia. "And from the bit where he called me 'vision-boy' I gotta assume he was sent by some guys 'round here called the Watcher's Council." He didn't expect the reaction he got. Buffy and Sonya's eyes widened, Joyce gasped and Xander's jaw dropped. Cordelia kept silent for once, and so did Oz, as usual. Giles, on the other hand, advanced on Doyle.   
  
"What do you know of the Council?" he demanded.   
  
A strange look came over Doyle's face. "Now I know where I seen ye all before..." He looked from Giles to Cordelia to Buffy and then to the others each in turn. "The first vision, it's finally comin' to pass... Aidan's never gonna believe all this!"   
  
"Aidan O'Shea?" At Doyle's nod, Giles seemed to come to a decision. "We're going to our hotel," Giles gripped Doyle's arm and guided him to the edge of the baggage carrousel where all their luggage was now rotating. "And you're coming with us. Take a bag."   
  
Doyle grabbed two matching cream-colored leather bags. Cordelia squeaked. "Careful, those are mine." The threat to her wardrobe pushed any lingering hysteria out of her mind.   
  
Buffy grabbed her own bags, and took Cordelia's other arm. "I think you'd better come with us, too."   
  
"Oh, no, I don't think so." The fire began to return to Cordelia's eyes as she contemplated being seen in public with this group of oddities.   
  
"Oh, I think so." Buffy pointed to Doyle and Giles who were carrying her bags and had already made their way across the room. "If you don't, you'll never see those suitcases again." With a whimper, Cordelia fell into step between Buffy and Xander as the group made its way out of the airport.   
  
"Cordelia," Xander said as they walked, "there are a few things that ought to be explained to you. You see, in this world there are dark things that most people don't notice..."   
  
"Like vampires and big, squiggly demons?" Cordelia rolled her eyes. "I know all about those. I saw you squash one with Principal Synder's car that time, remember? And then there was the time the vampires tried to take over the Bronze and it caught on fire... And now my demon bellhop stalker... It's amazing what you can find in this world, and somehow it's all connected to you guys."   
  
Xander's mouth had dropped open. He tried to ignore Buffy's barely suppressed laughter, and asked, "You've known all this time and you've never said anything, or done anything, or..."   
  
"And actually talk to you guys in the light of day?" Cordelia flipped some of her long, shiny, brown hair over her shoulder. "Puh-leaze! Talk about the kiss of death!"   
  
Xander stared at Cordelia, unable to believe what she was saying. Buffy's laughter bubbled out uncontrollably, and she was joined by Sonya and even Oz to an extent in her mirth as they made their way out of the airport and into several taxis that would take them to their hotel. 


	8. Chapter 7

In the Space of a Journey  
Chapter Seven   
  
England -- Aidan's Flat   
  
After checking in at their hotel and dropping off their luggage, Doyle invited the Sunnydale residents to Aidan's flat for a chat. When they all got inside, the flat was full to bursting. Giles, Doyle, Buffy, Xander, Oz (and his crutches) and Cordelia had somehow managed to clear Doyle's junk away enough to find seats in the living room. Joyce took Sonya, and a change of clothes they'd brought along, into the bedroom to help the girl make herself presentable again.   
  
In the main room, introductions had been made, and everyone was in the process of being caught up to speed on each other's stories.   
  
"Let me get this straight..." Giles eyed Doyle, who lounged on the couch, from his position in a stiff-backed, wooden chair. "You say you're a half-demon, and you have the soul and the conscience of a man, but you have powers when you let your demon visage show?"   
  
"Aye," Doyle replied with a nod.   
  
Giles continued, "And somewhere along the line something..."   
  
"The Powers that Be," Doyle supplied.   
  
"The Powers that Be," Giles repeated, "gave you the gift of visions of the future. Then, in one of these visions you saw... us?"   
  
"Aye again," Doyle answered. "Somethin' bad's gonna happen here, an' it's got somethin' ta do wi' the Council. An' now that I know who ye all are, I'm suspectin' that someone's after either ye, Giles, or yer Slayer." He glanced at Buffy.   
  
"Are you absolutely sure that the Council sent that hit man?" Buffy asked.   
  
"I am," Doyle replied. "The only blokes in this country that know about me visions are the Council members that Aidan saw fit to tell." The mention of Aidan caused Doyle to glance up at the clock. "I wonder where Aidan is, anyway... He had a meetin' at the Compound this morning, but he shoulda been back by now."   
  
"Maybe we should send out a search party," Cordelia piped up. "It would be horrible if something bad happened to poor Aidan."   
  
Xander directed a shocked glance toward Cordelia. "You care?"   
  
She shrugged her shapely shoulders. "He's *way* sexy."   
  
Xander rolled his eyes and went back to ignoring her. Cordelia huffed a little, but stayed in her seat. Just then, Joyce and Sonya -- wearing a clean shirt, this time one in a deep brown color that set off her hair -- came back into the living room.   
  
"All better?" Oz asked.   
  
Sonya nodded. "And if I get into any more fights, this shirt should cover up blood and dirt stains much better than the white one."   
  
"Way to plan ahead," Oz approved.   
  
Sonya sat down next to him on the couch and directed glances at Doyle, Giles and Buffy. "So, are we still talking about the vision thing, or have we moved on yet."   
  
"We're still talking about the visions," Buffy said with a sigh.   
  
"And about how Aidan is missing," Cordelia interjected.   
  
"Who's Aidan?" Sonya asked.   
  
"Me old friend and the bloke who rents this flat," Doyle supplied.   
  
"One of my old students, and an old friend from my days as an instructor for the Council," Giles added, causing everyone to look at him in surprise. "What? Can I not have led at least a little bit of a life before I met you all?"   
  
"No!" Xander protested. "That's just not allowed. You're supposed to be staid, sometimes boring, dependable, old Giles forever. No skeletons are allowed in your closet."   
  
Giles looked a bit pale, but he was saved from replying by the opening of the door. In walked a tall man in his late twenties to early thirties with classic good looks combined with blue eyes and well-trimmed dark hair.   
  
"Aidan," Giles said, standing. "It's been awhile."   
  
The newcomer looked at Giles in shock. "Rupert, I didn't expect... I mean, I knew I'd be seeing you tomorrow, but..."   
  
His stammered greeting was interrupted by Cordelia squealing, "Aidan!" and running over to give him a hug. "When Doyle said you were missing I was so worried!"   
  
Aidan looked shocked again. "Cordelia? Why are you...?" Then her statement broke through his fog of surprise, and he glared over at Doyle as he set Cordelia aside abruptly. "What did she mean, I'm missing..."   
  
Doyle stood. "That's not what I said... I just wondered what was takin' ye so long to get back from yer meetin' at the Compound."   
  
"I had to stop by the office for a couple of hours," Aidan explained. "Some people here do have to work!"   
  
Not noticing the slight insult directed at him, Doyle continued, "Well, it's good yer back, me man. Things have been happenin' that need yer attention."   
  
"Tell me," Aidan said, beginning to look a bit stressed.   
  
"Well..." Cordelia began, shoving herself into his line of sight. "I was..."   
  
"Not you," Aidan snapped. He gestured to Doyle. "Him."   
  
Cordelia's face fell, and she fled out onto the balcony.   
  
"I'm sorry, Cordelia. I didn't mean..." But it was too late. The door had already slammed behind her. Aidan sighed deeply, covering his eyes with his hands.   
  
Giles decided now was the perfect time for him to take over. "Aidan, let me tell you what's been going on. You see, we ran into a little trouble at the airport..." Doyle moved aside to let the elder Watcher have his place nearest to Aidan.   
  
Since they'd already been through this, Buffy and Xander stepped aside and started whispering. Xander looked at the glass door through which Cordelia had disappeared. Through the window, they could see her leaning against the railing of the balcony.   
  
"Maybe someone should go talk to her," Buffy suggested.   
  
Xander nodded. "I elect... you."   
  
Buffy's eyes widened and she shook her head. "I don't want to go. You go. You've known her longer."   
  
"That just means she's hated me longer," Xander protested. "She won't want to talk to me. You're a girl. You should do it."   
  
"Sexist much?" Buffy put her hands on her hips.   
  
"No, but the whole girl talk, girl bonding thing, you know?" Xander replied hopefully.   
  
Doyle, who'd moved close enough to hear what they were saying, suddenly spoke up. "Let me do it."   
  
"OK," Buffy and Xander chorused. Then they watched the small-statured Irishman make his way out onto the balcony.   
  
"You think he'll be able to help?" Buffy asked.   
  
"I think the appropriate question is, do you think he'll come out of it OK?" Xander replied, only half kidding.   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
Sunnydale -- a Park   
  
"This is boring!"   
  
Angel pulled his head out of the jungle gym to see Faith sitting on the merry-go-round, idly pushing herself with one foot.   
  
"Well, if you helped me, we'd be done faster," he replied snidely.   
  
"There's nothing here," Faith objected. "I can tell. No vampires, feral or otherwise. Except you, of course."   
  
Angel lifted an eyebrow at her snide tone, but didn't address her insult. "How can you tell? Can you feel it in your bones or something?"   
  
"It's obvious," Faith said, ticking off her reasons on her finger. "Number one, if there were any hostiles here, they would have already attacked us, unless they were chicken. Number two, if they were chicken, they would have already retreated, unless they were stupid. Number three, if they were stupid, they would have already made some mistake and lead us to them. And number four, there aren't any kids around here, so why would the vamps even bother to show up?"   
  
"You'd be surprised," Angel replied darkly. "This happens to be one of the favorite vampire haunts on this side of town. Once, this insane vampyress named Dru was about to put the bite on this little kid right near where you're sitting..."   
  
"Boring!" Faith called, giving the merry-go-round a hard push that set it spinning quickly. "I really don't care about your personal exploits, Angel. Save the stories for someone who does."   
  
Angel stalked over to the merry-go-round, and reached out, grabbing two of the bars. Met with his sudden, iron grasp, the piece of playground equipment shuddered to a halt. "Let's move on. I'm sure there's a cemetery calling our names."   
  
"Oooh," Faith cooed playfully, "a graveyard. My kind of place. Maybe we'll actually find some action." Giving him a pert look, she jumped off the merry-go-round and started walking.   
  
Forcing his eyes off the sultry sway of the commando leader's hips, Angel caught up with her quickly. "You should be careful what you wish for," he warned. "The Hellmouth has a way of giving it to you."   
  
Faith rolled her eyes. "Whatever."   
  
As the sounds of their bickering faded into the night, a small form crept out on all fours from the farthest shadows of the jungle gym, the area Faith had distracted Angel from searching. Emitting a low growl, the creature that looked like a wizened, little vampire stole a way in the opposite direction, filled with news for its mistress.   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
England -- Balcony of Aidan's Flat   
  
Cordelia leaned against the railing and stared down into London with unseeing eyes.   
  
"Stupid Aidan," she muttered. "See if I ever worry about him again." And she had been worried about him -- she'd been worried about a lot of things since a man she'd assumed to be a normal airport employee pulled a gun on her at the baggage carrousel.   
  
Before, she'd always managed to put the nastiness of life behind her. Yes, there were bad things out there, but those things did not affect Cordelia Chase. She was insulated behind the walls of her daddy's money and her years of popularity. And there was always Xander and his cohorts to fight the creepy-crawlies so she didn't have to.   
  
And then there was Aidan again. A guy she'd liked had turned her down, and in the most embarrassing way possible in front of a room full of her inferior classmates. Now whenever Buffy, Sonya, Xander or Oz looked at her, they wouldn't see the girl who had it all. They'd see the girl who was dissed by a stuffy Brit.   
  
Her mind flashed back to James. She just couldn't get him out of her head. Or the cruel things he'd said to her. Her daddy *would* pay a ransom for her... wouldn't he? (Daddy does love me! He said so once, didn't he?) The lead feeling in Cordelia's heart began to get worse. Tears threatened to run out of the corners of her eyes. Stiffening her spine, she knew she had to stop this before she lost even more face.   
  
"Stop feeling sorry for yourself, Cordelia," she ordered, unconsciously mimicking the words her mother, the society matron of Sunnydale, had always said the minute her little girl started to cry. "Tears ruin your looks, and you've got to keep a stiff upper lip so no one knows you're down."   
  
"It's a'right ta be down, lassie. It's even a'right to cry a little, as long as you have a nice, strong shoulder ta do it on..."   
  
Cordelia looked up in surprise to see Doyle standing there, holding out a handkerchief. She hadn't even heard the door open. He gestured for her to take the handkerchief, so she did. She noticed it was embroidered with his initials, AFD.   
  
Dabbing the corners of her eyes very carefully so as not to smudge her eyeliner, Cordelia muttered, "Thanks."   
  
"Irish fairy godmother at yer service," Doyle said with a self-mocking grin. "Though I'm not drunk this time, I assure ye."   
  
Cordelia flushed with embarrassment. Maybe it was her vulnerable emotional state, or maybe it was the gallant offer of a handkerchief in her moment of need, but Cordelia found herself doing something she never did... apologizing. "Doyle, I'm... uh... I'm really... I mean, I wanted to say I'm..."   
  
"Sorry fer insultin' me dignity twice with that crack?" Doyle supplied with a grin.   
  
"Yeah." Cordelia nodded. "I'm sorry."   
  
"Don' mention it," Doyle replied grandly. "Twern't nothin'."   
  
Cordelia favored him with one of her mega-watt smiles.   
  
"Now," Doyle teased, "we should get ye back inside. Yer makeup is beginnin' ta run, and yer not lookin' at all yerself. And if I could have me handkerchief back now..."   
  
Cordelia's smile turned into a frown at the insult -- however well meant -- to her looks. She extended her hand over the balcony railing and dropped the handkerchief. It began slowly fluttering down to the street below.   
  
"Feel free to go after it," she suggested in a saccharine-sweet tone. Then she turned on her heel and went back into the flat to repair her damaged makeup, leaving Doyle staring mournfully over the side of the balcony.   
  
"Me ma gave me that hanky..."   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
Sunnydale -- Parts Unknown   
  
"Come here, my pretty one. Tell Mama what you've learned."   
  
A luminous, bare arm beckoned from the shadows of a canopy bed. The feral vampire with glowing yellow eyes moved toward his mistress quickly on all fours. Its tongue lolled out the side of its mouth, stained with blood from a snack it had found on its way home.   
  
"Come on, sweet Jaques! Come to Mama!" The fingers on the hand snapped. The sound echoed throughout the room, bouncing off walls carved from rock.   
  
Jaques moved up to the edge of the bed and laid his chin on the side, much like a puppy begging its owner for a treat. The hand touched Jaques on the forehead, and the feral vampire trembled. A yellow glow engulfed them both. Jaques frothed at the mouth. A female laugh tinkled out from behind the curtain.   
  
"So, my pretty, the self-proclaimed protectors of Sunnydale want action do they?"   
  
Jaques trembled some more, jerking his head up and down in what might have been a nod.   
  
"Well... we'll just have to give it to them, won't we?"   
  
Jaques growled as the hand lifted. It disappeared behind the curtain and came back with a bloody glob of meat that looked as if it had been ripped directly from whatever, or whoever, it had been before. The meat hit the stone floor with a squish. Jaques pounced on it, licking it clean of all traces of blood.   
  
"Enjoy your treat, Jaques. There will be more to come..."   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
England -- Aidan's Flat   
  
Aidan looked at Giles and Doyle unhappily. "So, you think it wasn't just a random..."   
  
"A random underpaid, middle aged, working class airport attendant who just happened to know about Doyle's visions that went postal on us at the baggage carrousel?" Cordelia interrupted bluntly, giving him an arch look.   
  
"Oh... er... yes, I see what you mean," Aidan replied.   
  
"The thing we have to decide is, what do we do now?" Buffy interjected.   
  
"Yeah... if the Watchers are in on this..." Xander began, but Aidan shook his head violently as he got up from the couch and began to pace back and forth across the room.   
  
"I just can't believe the Council would have anything to do with this," Aidan protested. "Maybe something somewhere got leaked, but the Council would never..." He looked at Giles for support.   
  
The older Watcher hesitated before saying, "I agree that I don't want to condemn the Council out of hand. We cannot just blame them with no proof..."   
  
"Who else could it be?" Doyle demanded.   
  
Aidan's gaze swung to the half demon and his face lit up as he had an idea. "Doyle!" he exclaimed. "You know you don't have the most pristine past. Maybe it was someone collecting on a debt, or someone who wants revenge, like the cousin of one of those Brackens you let die when you first got the visions..."   
  
"Hey!" Doyle stood up and began to advance on his roommate, anger evident on his face. "What the hell are..."   
  
"You know," Joyce interrupted in a loud voice, "I think it's time for us to get back to the hotel and get changed for dinner!"   
  
"Good idea!" Buffy seconded, and the rest of the gang stood and began moving toward the door, Cordelia included.   
  
The last to leave the tension-filled room, Giles paused between Aidan and Doyle. "If you like, you're both welcome to join us for dinner."   
  
"Um..." Aidan hesitated. "I have a bit of work I must do before tomorrow. I don't think I can make it tonight."   
  
"Right, well then..." Giles gave his former student an odd look and then turned for the door. "If you need us, call the hotel. You have the number. You should both be careful. If the assassin was prepared, he may know where you live."   
  
"G'night, man," Doyle called, watching Giles leave as well. Then he turned his eyes on Aidan, who was staring uneasily at his shoes. "You've got some explainin' ta do, me friend." Doyle's voice took on an obvious edge. "What were ye doin' bringin' up stuff from me past that I told ye in confidence in front of perfect strangers?"   
  
"You're just upset that your past made you look bad in front of the girl you have the hots for," Aidan remarked, turning to go in the other room as if the conversation were over.   
  
Doyle laid a hand on his shoulder to stop him from leaving. "Wait just a bleedin' second!"   
  
Shaking Doyle's hand off, Aidan answered, "Do you really want to get into this now?"   
  
"Now's as good as any other time, I'm figurin'!" Doyle replied, his cheeks flushing with anger that had been building ever since Aidan's unintentional insult at airport. "Ye've been treatin' me like some kind of second class citizen fer weeks now, an' I'm tired of it! Ye never listen ta my ideas, ye deride me in public... What makes ye so special? Some hoity-toity job with the Council, an' a spiffy new accent?"   
  
"'Hoity-toity job'?" Aidan shot back angrily. "The Council is trying to save the world from the minions of darkness! Without the Council there would be no Slayer, not to mention all of our other countermeasures..."   
  
"Savin' the world! What a joke!" Doyle spat. "The Council's made up of blind fools and perverse hypocrites worried more about appearances and authority over their tools -- like the Slayer -- than real threats! My vision proves..."   
  
"Some vision!" Aidan interrupted. "It took two months for something to even come from it, and you still don't know what, if anything, the big threat is. I sounded the alert at the Council, and now I look bad in front of my superiors!"   
  
Doyle's eyes widened. "If ye didnae believe in me vision, then why did ye let me stay here so long!"   
  
"Misguided friendship, I don't know!" Aidan threw his hands in the air in frustration. "You know, Doyle, maybe it would be better all around if you just left."   
  
Hurt flared in Doyle's eyes, but he voice was calm. "Maybe so! I'll just get me things together right now..." He turned, half expecting Aidan to take back what he'd said, but Aidan was silent. Then Doyle looked up and found himself face-to-face with Cordelia standing in the doorway. 


	9. Chapter 8

In the Space of a Journey  
Chapter Eight   
  
England -- Aidan's Flat   
  
Cordelia followed Buffy and the rest of her fellow Sunnydale citizens out of Aidan's flat and downstairs. Giles caught up with the group soon after they emerged onto the street below, and the former England native set about hailing them a cab.   
  
As they waited, Cordelia found herself apart from the rest of the group. She wasn't even sure why she was still with them. It just seemed somehow the thing to do right now, and besides, her luggage had been left with the other things at their hotel. She couldn't leave without that!   
  
Standing with her arms crossed, Cordelia looked around the street. Something white on the ground caught her eye. Doyle's handkerchief. She walked over and picked it up, astonished that it hadn't been stolen or blown away. The embroidered AFD in the corner confirmed that it was indeed Doyle's hanky. Briefly, Cordelia wondered what the A and the F stood for, then she thought (Well, I suppose someone ought to take it back to him...) She looked around at her companions, and realized none of them could do the job with the graceful aplomb it would require to break back into the argument brewing in the flat.   
  
Abruptly, she announced, "I'll be right back. Hold the cab." Then, oblivious to the surprised looks she was getting, Cordelia turned and walked back into the building, the now-grimy handkerchief fluttering in her hand.   
  
It didn't take her long to make her way back to the front door of the flat. She laid her hand on the door knob, and found it unlocked. Not surprising judging by the loud, angry voices that were audible even in the hall. They must've been too busy fighting to think about locking the door. Cordelia opened the door quietly and looked in, trying to decide when it would be appropriate to speak and break the tension.   
  
Both men stood in the middle of the room, glaring at each other. Each seemed certain that his own way was right.   
  
"Savin' the world! What a joke!" Cordelia heard Doyle yell. "The Council's made up of blind fools and perverse hypocrites worried more about appearances and authority over their tools -- like the Slayer -- than real threats! My vision proves..."   
  
"Some vision!" Aidan interrupted. "It took two months for something to even come from it, and you still don't know what, if anything, the big threat is. I sounded the alert at the Council, and now I look bad in front of my superiors!"   
  
Cordelia was a little impressed in spite of herself at the way Doyle was standing up to his more respectable friend. Aidan was the one with the good job, the Oxford education and all the trappings of respectable society. (It would be like Xander standing up to Giles!) Cordelia thought in surprise. (Not that I would care if he did...)   
  
"If ye didnae believe in me vision, then why did ye let me stay here so long!" Doyle demanded.   
  
After that, she thought it was more than time that she speak up, but Aidan's next words stilled her tongue.   
  
"Misguided friendship, I don't know! You know, Doyle, maybe it would be better all around if you just left."   
  
"Maybe so! I'll just get me things together right now..."   
  
Then Doyle turned and saw her. For an instant, Cordelia could see the unguarded pain in his eyes, and then he covered up his emotions and started shoving dirty laundry in a well-worn suitcase.   
  
Before either Doyle or the stunned-looking Aidan could say anything, Cordelia breezed into the room and said, "Sorry to interrupt your Celebrity Death Match moment, boys." Rolling her eyes, she added, "But can we say bitter much?" She slanted a 'look' at Aidan, illustrating that what she'd overheard had done nothing for her sagging opinion of him. Then she turned to Doyle and said, "Why don't you come with us? I'll even let you carry my suitcases back to my hotel."   
  
The slightly desperate "what am I gonna do" look in Doyle's eyes faded a little, and he replied, "Sure, Cordelia. Sounds great. I cannae wait ta get outta here." Finishing his haphazard packing, Doyle shouldered his two bags and opened the door to let Cordelia out first without looking over his shoulder at Aidan once.   
  
As they made their way down the hall, Doyle gave Cordelia a sidelong glance and asked, "Not that I'm not grateful, but why did ye come back?"   
  
"Oh!" Cordelia said, the real reason for her trip back upstairs coming back to her. "I found this downstairs and I thought you might want it back."   
  
"Me hanky!" Doyle exclaimed happily. "Thanks!"   
  
Cordelia shrugged as they walked outside. "Well, I couldn't leave the grungy thing littering the clean city streets, now could I?" And with that she hopped into the last remaining seat in one of the cabs, leaving Doyle to make his way into the other one and tell Giles this new story.   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
Sunnydale -- Amy's House   
  
The shrill ringing of the phone on her bedside table woke Amy at an ungodly hour. She'd been at the condo very late the night before working on a complex transmutation spell with Ms. Calendar and Rio, so getting up at -- she checked the window and groaned -- the crack of dawn had not been on her schedule this morning.   
  
But the phone wouldn't shut up, so, not wanting it to wake her father, Amy finally reached a hand out from her cocoon of blankets and grabbed the phone.   
  
"Who could be calling me so early on my vacation?" Amy muttered sleepily into the receiver.   
  
"Oh, I'm sorry, did I wake you?"   
  
The familiar English accent caused her to sit up in surprise. Her thick quilt fell down to her waist, revealing her silk, navy blue pajamas underneath. "Terrance, is that you?"   
  
"Yes, quite. And I do apologize for waking you up. What with my early training schedules and all sometimes I forget that normal people like to sleep in." His low, masculine chuckle sent shivers up and down her spine.   
  
"No, no, not at all," Amy babbled. "I was thinking about getting up anyway."   
  
"Oh, good," Terrance replied. "Then maybe you'll be interested in my proposition."   
  
"You're going to proposition me?" Amy teased. Remembering his good looks, she added to herself, (though that might not be so bad.)   
  
"If you consider an invitation to breakfast a proposition..." She could hear his smile in his voice. "Would you like to join me?"   
  
"What time?"   
  
"Say, an hour and a half?"   
  
"Sounds great!" Amy was relieved -- that would give her more than enough time to get ready. "Where are we going?"   
  
"I thought we could meet at a nice little diner I saw when we got to town. I think it was called the Rose Cup. The motel manager highly recommends it."   
  
"That little place with the pink walls?" Amy nodded, even though he couldn't see her. "I went there once. They do have good food."   
  
"Right, then we'll meet at the Rose Cup in an hour and a half?"   
  
"I'll be there."   
  
"Until then," Terrance said and then hang up.   
  
"'Til then," Amy repeated. Dreamily, she put the receiver back in its cradle, and then sank back down into her blanket cocoon. "I can't believe he asked me out! He is so gorgeous!" she whispered excitedly to herself. "If only Buffy were here so I could tell her... I haven't been on a date since Europe!" Then a thought struck her that caused Amy to jump out of bed entirely. "What am I going to wear?"   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
England -- The Girls' Hotel Room   
  
"Well, it's been 'interesting' and all," Cordelia announced, flipping her long, glossy hair over one shoulder, "But I have to be getting back to my suite at the Ritz."   
  
Sonya looked up from her position on the nearest bed and called, "Okay, we'll miss ya, bye-bye now." She gestured at the door and added, "You know your way out."   
  
Joyce gave Sonya a slightly disapproving look and then turned to face Cordelia. "Dear, you can't go back there alone," she told the brunette in her best mother voice. "It's simply not safe. What if one of those assassins finds you on your way home?"   
  
Cordelia rolled her eyes. "Please, I'll just explain to them that I'm not *with* you people."   
  
Buffy stood up and placed her hands on her hips. "Do you really think they'll just let you go now that they've seen you with us?" Sighing, she added, "I think my mother is right. You shouldn't be left alone."   
  
Cordelia threw her hands in the air and exclaimed. "I won't be alone! My daddy is staying in a suite on the next floor, for God's sake!"   
  
There was a knock on the door.   
  
"Is everyone okay in there?"   
  
It was Xander. Obviously having heard the commotion from the next room, he had come over to check up on them. Buffy walked to the door and opened it, surprised to find Giles and Doyle standing there as well as her boyfriend.   
  
"We're fine," she reassured Xander, slipping her hand into his and giving him a quick peck on the cheek. Turning her attention to Giles and Doyle, she added, "But there is one problem. Cordelia is insisting that she be allowed to go back to her hotel room..."   
  
"It happens to be a *suite* at the Ritz, thank you very much," Cordelia huffed from where she stood on the other side of the room.   
  
"... fine, her *suite* then," Buffy amended, shooting Cordelia an annoyed look. "The point is, she's staying there all by herself. We don't think that it's safe for her to be alone with these assassin guys on the loose. They followed Doyle around, didn't they? So they already know that she's staying there. What if they come after her?"   
  
Cordelia breezed past Buffy and announced haughtily, "Look, you people can stand around and debate things until you're blue in the face, but I'm going back to my suite!" Gesturing at her bags, she added, "Will someone take those downstairs for me while I go hail a cab?" Then she walked out of the room and left everyone else looking after her with surprise etched on their faces.   
  
Doyle recovered his voice first. "We cannae let her be alone. Someone should stay with her at the Ritz... fer protection."   
  
Giles nodded. "Yes, that does seem like our only course of action at this juncture."   
  
From her position on the bed, Sonya muttered darkly, "We could just call up the Council and give them her room number. That would solve everyone's problems really fast!"   
  
Giles gave her a stern look and announced, "And since you seem to be so concerned about her, Sonya, you will be the one to go with her."   
  
"What?!" Sonya demanded, rising to her feet. "No way! I am *not* going to play babysitter to that spoiled little brat all night." She crossed her arms in front of her chest and glared defiantly at Giles. "It's not gonna happen."   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
Sunnydale -- the Rose Cup   
  
Amy pulled her car up to the diner and parked. She sat there for a minute with a sudden case of the jitters. (What if he's not there?) she asked herself. (Do I go in and get a table or wait outside... Did I choose the right outfit? What on earth will we talk about? Oh... I should have just stayed in bed!)   
  
"All right," Amy said aloud to herself. "Quit being silly, and get on with it, girl!"   
  
She flipped down the rearview mirror for a last makeup and hair check. Her French twist and her new passion pink lipstick looked fine. And she was wearing her favorite green sweater and jeans for comfort and attractiveness. Flipping the mirror back up again, Amy took a deep breath, grabbed her purse and got out of the car. When she walked up the steps, suddenly Terrance was there to greet her. Before he reached her, she looked her fill. His blond, short hair was impeccably styled, his blue eyes gazed at her warmly and this morning, instead of the black suit, he was wearing jeans and a grey T-shirt that showed off his muscular arms.   
  
"Good morning, Amy," Terrance said with a big smile. Then he offered her his arm as they walked into the restaurant.   
  
(What a gentleman!) she thought, sliding her arm through his. Aloud, she said, "How are you this morning, Terrance? Get much sleep after we packed it in last night?"   
  
"A bit," he replied. Then, to the hostess, he said, "Two please."   
  
Soon they were being led through the crowded diner to a corner booth. Amy slid onto the cracked, pink vinyl without even noticing. They began to peruse the menus. Amy slid Terrance a nervous glance and caught him doing the same thing. They both laughed and the tension was broken.   
  
(This is actually going to be fun) Amy decided happily.   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
England -- The Ritz   
  
"I can't believe I'm here," Sonya moaned as she followed Cordelia into her suite.   
  
"Well, I'm not too thrilled about the impromptu roommates myself," Cordelia replied in an annoyed tone.   
  
"What are ye two so upset about?" Doyle asked, shutting the door behind them with a grin. Then he dropped his two bags, and two of Cordelia's that he'd been carrying, and plopped down on the large, overstuffed couch, resting his feet on the coffee table. "It's like a sleep over!"   
  
Sonya and Cordelia both gave him death looks.   
  
"When was the last time you were invited to a sleep over?" Sonya muttered, dropping her own bag, and the other two of Cordelia's bags in a pile on the floor.   
  
Cordelia looked at the messy pile of baggage unhappily, and then walked over and forcibly removed Doyle's feet from the pristine surface of the table. "Just because I'm allowing you to stay here doesn't mean you can treat this place like you did Aidan's apartment. This is a suite at the Ritz, not a dumpy little flat! It requires a bit of class."   
  
Doyle straightened up on the couch and seemed to be trying for class.   
  
Sonya rolled her eyes and turned to Cordelia. "Where's the phone? I told Oz I'd call him when I got here."   
  
Cordelia gestured vaguely toward the kitchenette and then turned back to Doyle. "And speaking of class, has anyone ever told you that the Irish pimp look is *so* five minutes ago?"   
  
Doyle looked down at his outfit -- his favorite leather jacket, a colorful shirt with a wide collar, a golden amulet, and dark pants -- and frowned. "What's wrong wi' me clothes?" He absently fingered the collar of his shirt with one hand while the fingers of his other hand tapped out a soft rhythm on his left leg. He was really starting to regret his decision to tag along with Sonya and Cordelia.   
  
"What's wrong with them?" Cordelia laughed incredulously and placed her hands on her hips. "Oh, where should I start?"   
  
"Actually, I'd prefer it if ye didnae start anythin' at all," Doyle muttered under his breath, glancing over at where Sonya was talking -- presumably to Oz -- on the phone.   
  
"OK, then, on to other things," Cordelia said, waving her hand around airily. "Just so there aren't any misunderstandings, I'm getting the bed. You and Sonya can duke it out for the sofa or the bathtub."   
  
"Gee, thanks for the consideration," Doyle replied with a frown. "Ye know, we did come her fer yer safety..."   
  
"I'm sure I would have been fine without you," Cordelia assured him. "This is a four-star hotel. They have great security."   
  
"An' that same great security let me slip t'rough the cracks last night, steal a bellhop getup and spy on you," Doyle said sarcastically. "Sounds like a real winner ye picked here!"   
  
Cordelia's face took on a fierce frown. "Since we're talking about that, let me just say that stalking is illegal in most civilized countries..."   
  
On the other side of the room, Sonya turned her back on her feuding roommates so she could better concentrate on the phone call.   
  
"How's it going there?" Oz asked.   
  
"Fine, if you like World War III," Sonya grumbled. "Those two just don't know when to quit. I wish I was with you guys. Buffy and Joyce are probably having *way* too much fun in the girls' room without me."   
  
"I don't know about that since they're both in here," Oz replied, "but I miss you, too."   
  
That made Sonya pause, a happy smile curving her lips. "Really?"   
  
"Really."   
  
"Well, maybe we can go out for breakfast tomorrow morning before we have to leave for the Compound, just me and you," Sonya suggested.   
  
"That would be cool..."   
  
Across the room, Cordelia shrieked just as a loud knock sounded on the door. Not taking her glare off Doyle, Cordelia called, "Come in!"   
  
At that, Sonya turned and called, "No, Cordelia, you should never just say 'come in!' It can be dangerous..."   
  
But before she could even finish her sentence, the door to the suite sprang open and four big, burly vampires walked in wearing their game faces.   
  
"This is going to be easier than they told us," a vampire in a black duster said with a laugh.   
  
A shorter vamp wearing a red hat slugged the one in the duster in the arm. "Shut up! We aren't s'posed ta let on 'bout that!"   
  
"Quit it, you two," the third vamp, wearing a Led Zepplin T-shirt, said, and the fourth vamp, wearing white leather pants, nodded.   
  
"Let's get on wi' it!" Leather Pants growled, looking hungrily at Cordelia. "She looks like a tasty bit o' stuff."   
  
Cordelia screamed again, but the door slamming shut muffled the sounds from anyone outside. Leather Pants strode up to her and grabbed her by the nape of the neck. "Shut up, sweet thing, o' yer gonna be supper!" Then he laughed. "Never mind, yer gonna be supper anyway!"   
  
"Let her go!" Sonya yelled. Dropping the phone, she vaulted over the bar that separated the kitchenette from the rest of the suite, hoping to charge Leather Pants. But Duster and Zepplin got in her way.   
  
"Going somewhere?" Zepplin asked menacingly.   
  
"I don't think so," Duster added with a growl for good measure.   
  
Sonya sank back into a fighting stance, and pulled her ever-present stake out of her waistband. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Red Hat closing in on Doyle as Leather Pants leaned down toward Cordelia's throat.   
  
(Giles) Sonya vowed silently (I'm really gonna get you for this... if we all get out of here OK...)   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
England - Boys' Hotel Room   
  
Giles and Xander sat at the room's only table, as Giles tried to teach Xander how to play chess. Xander however, was distracted by Buffy sitting on the arm of his chair. Joyce was in the bathroom rinsing out some socks. Oz, however, was paying no attention to the everyday activities going on around him. He was looking worriedly at the phone, hoping the person on the other end would come back.   
  
"Sonya?"   
  
Oz listened intently but she didn't come back. In the background he could hear growling, and then a high-pitched, feminine scream. Something bad was going on.   
  
"Sonya!" Oz yelled into the phone. "Come back to me! What's going on, damn it?"   
  
All around the hotel room, heads snapped up at the unusual sound of Oz yelling.   
  
"What's wrong?" Buffy asked, standing up.   
  
Oz looked up, a bleak look in his eyes. "I think they're being attacked..." He held the phone out, and Buffy grabbed it.   
  
The Slayer's face went from expectant to unhappy. "It's definitely an attack," she told the others, "and from the growling in the background, I'd say it's vampires. As in more than one."   
  
"Oh, no, Sonya!" Xander said, jumping to his feet so fast that he jostled the chess board and black and white figures went flying all over the floor. "We've got to get over there!"   
  
Buffy gave Xander and strange look, but instead of saying whatever was on her mind, she simply announced, "Let me go get my weapons bag from my room, then we'll go." Looking at Giles, she added, "You've got to come with us, to help us navigate." Then she looked at her mother, but Joyce spoke before Buffy could say anything.   
  
"I'll stay here with Oz."   
  
As Buffy, Xander and Giles hurried out the door, Oz said, "Do the superhero thing, Buffy. Save the day."   
  
Buffy put her hand on Oz's shoulder for a brief second. "Don't worry, Oz. It's all going to be OK. I promise." Before Oz could notice any hollowness or doubt in her words, Buffy led her team out of the room. 


	10. Chapter 9

In the Space of a Journey  
Chapter Nine   
  
England -- Aidan's Flat   
  
The flat was dark, but Aidan didn't bother opening the windows. He didn't need the light anyway -- it would conflict with his dark thoughts.   
  
Aidan didn't know what he was supposed to do. He kept going over and over the fight with Doyle in his head. How had it gotten so out of control? Doyle might be messy and irresponsible, but he was Aidan's oldest friend. Or at least he used to be. Had they really changed that much over the years?   
  
He walked over to his antique crystal brandy container and poured some into a snifter. The bitter, fiery liquid burned all the way down to his stomach.   
  
Aidan tried to push his guilt about Doyle out of his mind, and immediately thoughts about his meeting at the Compound that he hadn't had time to deal with took over. He took another swig of the brandy.   
  
What was he supposed to do? Barrows had as good as said that further association with Doyle, and Giles, too, would cost him his job. In the battle of friends vs. job, the job was theoretically supposed to take second place to friends and/or loved ones. Aidan knew that, and if his job was counting beans for some local firm or clerking in a shop, he'd throw it over in an instant. Even if it were just his museum position on the line, Aidan would almost cheerfully give it away for either Doyle or his former mentor, Giles. After all, he'd put his reputation on the line letting Giles's vampire agent into the Compound on that night several months back, hadn't he? But where did individual relationships come into play against the thousands, or even millions, of innocents the Watchers were duty and honor-bound to protect?   
  
Until just recently, Aidan had been part of the team training Faith and her group of modern-day warriors. And now, those warriors were all that stood between the demons of hell and the lives of innocents in Sunnydale. And the Council had more plans like that in the works all the time, not to mention the Council's duties toward the Slayer herself. Were his paltry relationships -- no matter how very important they were to Aidan personally -- really worth losing all the good he could do with the Council?   
  
Aidan still couldn't believe the rumors flitting about the Compound that Giles had committed treason. He knew Giles, and Aidan was sure that the tribunal would clear him. The man had defied tradition, there was no question about that, but was whatever he had done really so bad? Though Aidan would have to wait for the proceedings to find out, he sincerely doubted it. Giles was a good man, through and through.   
  
In fact, the only thing Giles had ever done that Aidan hadn't whole-heartedly approved of was this afternoon when the man had actually given a bit of credence to Doyle's insane idea that the Council sent the assassin to the airport. It couldn't be the Council. Aidan was positive. An organization honor-bound to do good, could never do something so horribly wrong... could it?   
  
And that brought Aidan's thoughts around full circle, back to Doyle. He sincerely regretted how he had behaved earlier. Though he thought Doyle was wrong in accusing the Council, Aidan felt guilty for some of the mean-spirited things he'd said.   
  
Finishing off his brandy, Aidan decided that the only right thing to do was to call Doyle and apologize. Maybe he could even find a way to tell Doyle about the Council's problem with him, and perhaps together they could find a way to make the Council see that Doyle wasn't a bad guy, and that his visions were worth listening to.   
  
Aidan picked up the phone and turned on a small table lamp so he could read the number Giles had given him before he left. It wasn't long before he was waiting for someone to pick up the phone on the other end.   
  
"Sonya?" a male voice demanded after barely one ring.   
  
"No," Aidan said, "this is..."   
  
"Sorry," the voice interrupted. "Gotta keep the line open."   
  
And then Aidan was listening to dial tone. He stared at the phone a moment, wondering what was going on. He thought about calling back to find out, but the boy had seemed very insistent on keeping the line open. But there was one other place he could call, though he didn't know what good it would do. Pulling out the bit of paper on which Cordelia had written her phone number the night they met, Aidan placed the second call.   
  
A moment later the hotel operator came on the line. "I'm sorry, sir, but the room you called is busy. Would you like to leave a message?"   
  
"Er..." Aidan hesitated. "I supposed you could say that Aidan called looking for Doyle, and for Miss Chase to call me back if she knows where he is."   
  
"Yes, sir. I'll do that."   
  
"Thank you. Good night."   
  
"Good night, sir."   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
England -- the Ritz   
  
Buffy burst out of the stairwell, gasping for breath, her Slayer body having just been strained to its limits. Her weapons bag banged against her hips as she stopped to suck in a little air before heading into the fray. A minute later, an even more exhausted Xander burst out behind her.   
  
"Stupid... Cordelia... would... have... a suite... on... the... fifteenth floor," Xander panted.   
  
"Good thing... Giles waited for... the elevator," Buffy replied. "He never would... have made it." She felt the much needed oxygen bringing relief to her strained muscles as she popped open the bag for easy access. She pulled out two stakes and tossed one to Xander. "Ready?"   
  
"As I'll ever be."   
  
They crept up to the door of room #1575, careful not to make a sound. Buffy reached for the door knob, when Xander touched her shoulder.   
  
(I don't hear anything) he mouthed silently.   
  
Buffy's eyes darkened with fear as she realized the same thing. Immediately, she burst through the door into the suite. The former Pseudo-Slayer followed. The room was empty.   
  
"Cordelia?" Buffy called. She and Xander began walking around the perimeter of the room, skirting piles of luggage and battle debris, like the remains of several once-lovely potted plants, looking for evidence of what had happened to their friends. "Doyle?"   
  
"Sonya!" Xander cried. "Buffy! Look at this!"   
  
Buffy turned to see Xander standing in front of the open balcony doors holding a white backpack purse with a broken strap. "It's Sonya's."   
  
Xander nodded. "It was lying out there."   
  
Behind them, the door to the hallway opened with a loud bang.   
  
"Freeze, minions of Hell!"   
  
Buffy and Xander spun around to see Giles standing in the doorway with his tie askew holding a stake.   
  
"They're not here, Giles," Buffy pointed out unnecessarily.   
  
Giles stepped into the room. "Where..."   
  
"Shhh!" Buffy gestured for him to be quiet. "I heard something."   
  
They stood in silence, waiting. Then, just as Buffy was about to give up, she heard it again -- a quiet moaning. This time Xander and Giles heard it, too. They followed the noise around the room to the corner by the piano. Stretching out from underneath the piano was a pair of shapely legs encased in ripped nylons.   
  
"Cordelia?" Buffy knelt down and peered under the large, black instrument. "Can you hear me?"   
  
"Is she OK?" Xander asked, straining to see over Buffy's head. "Ask her what happened to the others."   
  
With Buffy's help, the semi-conscious Cordelia managed to make it out from under the piano. Then Xander took her other arm, and they guided her over to the couch where she could lay down more comfortably.   
  
"Cordelia?" Buffy repeated gently. "Can you tell us what happened?"   
  
The dazed look lifted from Cordelia's eyes and they filled with tears. "There were vampires..." She broke into sobbing.   
  
Buffy let Cordelia cry on her shoulder. The Slayer rubbed her formal arch rival's back as she shuddered. Buffy felt a sudden sense of understanding for the trauma Cordelia was going through. Yes, the girl might have known of the existence of vampires before tonight, but she'd never before faced one of them one-on-one, or had one target her specifically. Buffy could easily recall the terror she felt after her first encounter with a vampire that wanted her neck, a vampire named Linus, and that remembrance gave her empathy for Cordelia. Buffy glanced at Cordelia's neck, relieved that there weren't any puncture wounds, only a couple of scratches that bespoke an attempted bite.   
  
But time was of the essence, so after a few minutes, she said, "Cordelia, we really need you to tell us what happened. Sonya and Doyle may need our help. Do you know where they went?"   
  
Cordelia moaned a little. "There was this big one, in white leather pants. He tried to bite me... but Doyle... Doyle punched the one that attacked him and got me away from the other one..."   
  
"So there were two?" Buffy asked, trying to clarify the girl's muddled story.   
  
"They could handle two," Xander murmured hopefully.   
  
"There were four!" Cordelia wailed. "And I couldn't do anything... Sonya had two, and Doyle had to save me... Then one of them knocked me into the piano and I blacked out..."   
  
"You don't know where they went?" Buffy asked.   
  
Cordelia just shook her head, weeping quietly.   
  
Buffy looked to Giles. "What should we do?"   
  
The somber-faced Watcher said, "Leave Miss Chase with me. I will call the hotel doctor. We have to make sure she doesn't have a concussion. You two go out into the streets and see if you can pick up their trail... though it's probably cold by now."   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
Twenty minutes later, Xander found himself back inside the Ritz, taking the elevator up to the fifteenth floor. If he hadn't been so upset that he and Buffy's search of the surrounding area had come up empty, he would have been glad that they weren't running up the stairs again. Buffy put her hand on his arm and he looked over at her concerned face.   
  
"We did all we could, Xander," she said softly. "I was hoping just as much as you were that they didn't have much of a head start on us, but obviously they are long gone."   
  
"Without a trace," Xander muttered in frustration.   
  
"So far," Buffy agreed, but her face was determined. "But we're going to find them somehow. No matter what we have to do, we'll find them."   
  
Xander nodded. He felt Buffy staring at him. Finally, he asked, "What?"   
  
Hesitantly, she replied, "I haven't seen you this concerned about Sonya in a long time. It just goes to show what a loyal and loving friend you are."   
  
He looked at her in surprise. He almost didn't say anything, but Buffy was the one person he'd always felt he could tell anything, and he wasn't going to ruin their new start with lies or half-truths. "Just because we weren't really talking much lately doesn't mean I don't care about her."   
  
"I know."   
  
Xander gazed deeply into her eyes. "And it doesn't bother you?"   
  
"If you didn't care about her, you wouldn't be the Xander I love," Buffy replied in a calm voice. "I'll admit that the idea of you and her makes me uneasy sometimes, but I know with my head that I can trust you both, and I'm going to keep working on the rest of me until all the doubts are gone. I'm not going to run from you again, Xander."   
  
Despite his fear, Xander felt a small rush of joy. He pulled Buffy into a tight hug. She squeezed him back just as tight.   
  
"I just wish that I'd talked to her the other day in the library," he whispered, his voice full of repressed regret. "What if we never..."   
  
"Don't say that!" Buffy pulled back and looked at him with a fierce gaze. "We WILL get them back!"   
  
There was a soft ding as the elevator came to a stop on the fifteenth floor. The couple stepped out and walked down to Cordelia's suite. The door was ajar, so they walked inside. Giles and Cordelia were walking around, putting things into suitcases.   
  
"What's going on?" Buffy asked.   
  
Giles put down the silk shirt he'd been trying, rather unsuccessfully, to fold and walked over to Buffy and Xander. "She's coming back with us. She can't stay here."   
  
"Did she see the doctor?" Xander asked, noticing the girl's unusually pale cheeks as she packed.   
  
"He said it wasn't a concussion," Giles replied. "She should be fine. Tell me what you found."   
  
"A big nothing!" Xander exclaimed, feeling the frustration well up inside again. "No clues at all. No one saw anything out of the ordinary, there were no disturbances out there... nothing."   
  
"They must've had a good head start on us," Buffy added. "We're going to have to find some other way to track them down." She paused for a second, and then said, "C'mon. Let's help Cordelia finish packing."   
  
"I wish my daddy would come back," Buffy heard Cordelia murmur as the Slayer walked past her and into the bedroom.   
  
"I'll check the closet to make sure that nobody missed anything," Buffy called back. She walked into the spacious bedroom and wondered what it would be like to live in such luxury. The room held a king-sized bed and an antique desk, chest of drawers and armoire. Then something white on the pillow caught her eye. Buffy walked over to investigate and found an envelope. There was no name on the envelope. A spurt of hope buoyed her spirit as she snatched the envelope and tore it open.   
  
"Guys!" she yelled, "come in here. I think I found a ransom note!"   
  
She scanned the note quickly, and her heart dropped. Not only was it not a ransom note, it was bad news. It said:   
  
Cordelia, I had to go to a business meeting in Belgium. Sorry I can't take you with me, but it has to do with the European contracts. You understand, I'm sure. Buy anything you want in the shops, and I'll make it up to you next time. I left my forwarding address at the front desk, and I will see you at the airport on Saturday for our flight home. Warmest wishes, Prescott Wildman Chase III   
  
"What is it?" Xander exclaimed excitedly, skidding to a stop in the middle of the bedroom. Giles and Cordelia walked in behind him.   
  
Buffy looked sadly at Cordelia. "Would you two give us a moment, please. It's not a ransom note."   
  
Giles and Xander exchanged a confused look, but they did as she asked.   
  
"Cordelia," Buffy said, handing her the letter. "It's for you. I'm sorry I read it, but I thought it was a clue..."   
  
Cordelia took the letter with reluctance, as if she already knew what it said. Her face grew paler, if such a thing were possible, as she skimmed its contents. She was silent for a long moment.   
  
"Are you... OK?" Buffy asked, unsure how the girl would receive her sympathy. "It must've been a really important meeting..."   
  
Cordelia met Buffy's eyes with a bleak gaze. "It's always an important meeting."   
  
Buffy felt a rush of pity for the other girl. Who knew they had so much in common? The thought of her last birthday flashed into Buffy's mind -- the birthday when her father stood her up for their traditional ice show to take a trip to Reno with his new girlfriend Sophie.   
  
"I know how you feel..." Buffy started.   
  
"How could you know!" Cordelia snapped. "You have great parents! Look at your mom. She wasn't too busy with trips to plastic surgeons, beauty spas and the Betty Ford Clinic to come with you on this trip. And I'm sure your father never abandoned you in a foreign country."   
  
"That's true," Buffy admitted. "My mom is great. My dad, on the other hand... well, he's never abandoned me in a foreign country, but he did abandon my mother and I, and he's abandoned me to go to a foreign country!"   
  
"Well, maybe you do understand a tiny bit of what I'm feeling..." Cordelia grudgingly admitted, as if even that small concession were too much to make.   
  
Buffy thought of a good comeback, but restrained herself. She didn't know whether Cordelia was taking her pain out on her, or if she were just being her normal, snobby self, but either way fighting about it wouldn't be very productive.   
  
Instead, she asked, "How much stuff do you have left to pack, and how can I help?"   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
England: The Scooby Gang's Hotel   
  
Joyce and Oz looked up when the door to the boy's room burst open to reveal Xander and Giles.   
  
"Did you find her?" Oz asked before they had even gotten the door closed behind them.   
  
"Where's Buffy?" Joyce added.   
  
"Buffy's helping Cordelia and the bellhop get all her luggage into the other room," Xander explained, taking the easy question first. "She's staying with us now. Her other place was way to dangerous for us to leave her there."   
  
Oz's face paled, and he stared at Giles. The older man had an answering haggard expression on his face.   
  
Giles laid a hand on Oz's shoulder. "I'm sorry, Oz, but when we got there Sonya and Doyle were gone. Cordelia remembers four vampires, but there was no trail, no clue to tell us where to mount a rescue. We're just going to have to wait. Perhaps there will be a ransom note."   
  
"That's it!" Oz stared at Giles incredulously. "You're supposed to be her father, and all you want to do is wait? We've got to start looking! Leave no stone unturned and all that sh..." His eyes flashed to Joyce and he changed it to, "stuff!"   
  
He hadn't heard the door open again, and Buffy walk into the room, followed by an uncharacteristically quiet and somber Cordelia. He pushed off Giles's hand and began struggling to get to his feet. "Where are my crutches? If you all won't do anything, I will!"   
  
Hearing her friend's outburst, Buffy made her way over to Oz. Placing her hands on his shoulders, she shoved him gently back into his chair. Then she knelt before him, and looked into his wild eyes as she spoke. "Oz, this is killing us, too, but what good is it for us to go off with no plan, no clues? We *will* find them, I promise you that, but we've got to have a starting point..." Her mind worked busily for a moment, as it had been ever since the elevator ride with Xander, then she looked toward Giles. "Maybe Xander and I should do a sweep of the sewer systems. Or the Metro tunnels. Those might be good vampire hideouts."   
  
Giles sighed. "The tunnels go on for miles. There's no possible way you could comb them all before we have to be at the Compound tomorrow. The more I think about it, the best solution I can come up with is for us to ask the Council for help. They have resources beyond our imaginings, and they will know where vampires tend to go in this country. When I lived here and worked with them, I knew, but it's been awhile and my knowledge is out of date."   
  
"I hate to say this," Xander spoke up, his face somber. "I really hate to say this... but how do we know they're still alive? Or still human?"   
  
"I thought of that," Giles admitted, "and I came to the conclusion that the attack must've been meant for either Doyle or Sonya or both of them. Perhaps they were followed. If it had just been random vampires looking for a snack, they would have killed Miss Chase. Doyle will not have been turned into a vampire. More than one demon cannot have possession of the same body. Sonya, however, I suppose it is possible. We will just have to pray that she was wanted, intact and human, as a hostage. It's our only hope, but a realistic one, I think."   
  
"Speaking of being followed," Buffy said, "We've all got to take care tonight. If Doyle and Sonya were followed to Cordelia's, someone might have followed us back here. No one invite anyone into your room without knowing who it is. And maybe we should take turns standing watch."   
  
"We're on the seventh floor," Xander said, "without balconies. I think we're safe in that regards. As long as we don't let anyone in the rooms..."   
  
Cordelia cleared her throat, and everyone looked at her. "So if I hadn't said 'come in' when those creatures knocked on my door, none of this would have happened?"   
  
"Don't think that way!" Buffy said quickly, going to Cordelia's side and sitting next to her on the bed. "It won't do any good now." She looked at Cordelia, and decided, now that the girl wasn't too hysterical, to ask if she remembered any more details about the vampires that had attacked. "Cordelia, have you thought of anything else... anything at all about what happened that might give us a clue to where they took Sonya and Doyle?"   
  
Cordelia licked her lips nervously. "There was one thing, but I didn't understand it."   
  
"Tell us anyway," Buffy urged. "Maybe we'll know what it meant."   
  
"Well, this one vampire, wearing these hideous, white leather pants, came up and grabbed me," Cordelia replied. "He said I was going to be supper. And then, right before Doyle pulled him off of me, he said, 'Spike's gonna wish he'd come with us. He's missing out on both fun and profit.' The vampire had more of an accent, of course, but I sort of wondered who Spike was..."   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
England: Parts Unknown...   
  
Sonya woke up with a start, eyes darting around her, trying to ascertain where she was. It was dark, only one light bulb cast any illumination and it did little to clear up the shadows in the corners of the room. But it did give Sonya enough light to make out the small, barred window that was positioned up high on the wall. She judged that, from the lack of light coming from the window, it was still night outside and they were far enough away from any civilization to prevent the city lights from shining through. She turned her head and wasn't surprised to see bars over the room's only door. Whoever had locked her in here had obviously wanted to prevent her from escaping.   
  
Then a soft moan caught her attention. Tearing her eyes away from the door that led to freedom, she saw a form laying a few feet away, obscured by the darkness. Inching closer to it, she realized that it was a man. Once she reached his side, his identity became clear in an instant.   
  
"Doyle?" she whispered, giving the Irishman's shoulder a light shake.   
  
The dark haired man didn't move, though he moaned again softly.   
  
"Doyle!" This time she whispered it a bit louder and gave his shoulder a rougher shake.   
  
He still didn't register her presence. And upon closer inspection, he appeared to be badly injured. His face, though still in its demon persona, was bruised and bloody. And his neck was bent at an odd angle. Had he been human, Sonya was sure that he would be dead right now. But luckily enough, for him and for her as well, he was not entirely human.   
  
Sonya sat back, tucking her knees beneath her chin. She wished that there was something she could do for him, but nothing came to mind. The room, or perhaps cell was a more appropriate term, had nothing in it that might serve any useful purpose. She sighed, looking Doyle's injuries over with a critical eye. He would heal eventually. She was sure of it. Sonya just hoped it was soon. Patience was so not her forte. 


	11. Chapter 10

In the Space of a Journey  
Chapter Ten   
  
England -- The Cell   
  
A noise outside woke Sonya up from a fitful doze on the hard, cold, stone floor. Her eyes snapped open, and instantly she remembered the events that had led up to where she was now: the four vampires, staking one, she and Doyle chasing the other three to find out who sent them, being led into a trap where a group of masked men threw them into the back of a van and finally waking up in this cell. A bit of grayish light coming through the tiny, barred window told her it was dawn outside. She glanced at Doyle. His face was still demony, but he looked better than he had the night before. Apparently, he could heal faster than a normal human, too.   
  
She tried to pinpoint whatever it was that had woken her up. It had been a noise, she was sure of it. Then she heard it again. Two people were talking, right outside the door to the cell.   
  
Her stake had been taken, of course, so Sonya crept quietly up to the door of the cell. There were two doors, in fact. A thick, metal, sliding door covered a door made out of iron bars. Whoever put them in here was making sure they could never get out.   
  
"I want to see the prisoners," a female voice ordered. The sound trickled in through the small window in the sliding door. "How are they doing this morning?"   
  
"Still out, last I checked," a man replied.   
  
There was a click, that could only be the sound of a key in a lock, and the metal door started to slide. Sonya decided instinctively that she didn't want them to know she was awake yet, so she laid back down on the floor, positioned so she could peek under her lashes and see who came in. She felt bars of light on her face as the sliding door opened. She caught a glimpse of an institutional hallway lit with fluorescent lights, but nothing that gave her a clue as to where they were.   
  
"Marcus, I thought the girl had rapid healing abilities?" the woman asked.   
  
From what Sonya could tell, the woman was thin and pale. She had blonde hair wrapped up into a tight chignon, and was wearing a navy blue, skirted business suit. Sonya didn't recognize her. She didn't recognize the man... Marcus... either. He was younger, and had nondescript brown hair. He also wore glasses. What gave her pause was the tweed suit.   
  
"She does," Marcus replied. "In case you haven't noticed, all her wounds have vanished. She was much more ragged when they brought her in here."   
  
"And the demon?"   
  
"He'll heal, as well. Brackens are good at that."   
  
Sonya felt a shiver run up and down her spine as the woman looked her over again. She had to work hard not to let it show. Then the woman spoke again.   
  
"I expected something more from a former Slayer..."   
  
"Like what?" the man asked.   
  
The woman shrugged. "I don't know... just something more... exciting."   
  
Then the woman turned on her heal and walked off, leaving the man looking in on them.   
  
"Have a good sleep, Sonya, Doyle," Marcus whispered. After that, he slammed the door shut, and Sonya heard the lock click again.   
  
As soon as she was sure she was alone again, she sat up and scooted back until her back was against the wall. Then she pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. The pieces, at least some of them, were starting to come together in her mind: the tweed, the man and the woman's English accents, the name Marcus which had been on the bottom of Giles's letter about the tribunal, the woman knowing Sonya used to be a Slayer...   
  
"Doyle was right all along," Sonya said softly. "It's the Council..."   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
Sunnydale -- Angel's Apartment   
  
Angel awoke abruptly from a rather disturbing dream, but when he opened his eyes, he found he couldn't remember any of it. He lay there for a minute, but nothing came back to him. Glancing at the clock, Angel realized it was past sunset. Time to get up. He stood up, yawned and stretched. Then he walked over toward the closet and pulled on his favorite, black, silk robe. He was just heading over to the fridge for a snack when the phone rang.   
  
"Hello?" he said into the receiver.   
  
It was Jenny Calendar on the other end. "We need to talk."   
  
"What about?" Angel wondered at the tension in her voice.   
  
"Something's happened in England. I just talked to Giles."   
  
"What's wrong?" Angel demanded. "Is it Buffy... or Xander? Is one of them hurt?" Then he remembered some of Faith's off handed comments about the Council, and he added, "No, it's Giles... the Council canned him?"   
  
"Worse than the last, better than the first," Jenny said bluntly. "Sonya and a guy they met over there, Doyle, were kidnapped, or worse, by a group of vampires."   
  
Angel felt some tension ease from his taut muscles. Buffy and Xander -- two of the most important people in his life -- were all right. Then he felt guilty. He shouldn't rejoice in the fact that Sonya was now who knew where. "What do they need us to do?" he asked quickly, trying to cover up his momentary lapse. "Of course, we'll do anything, but we're half a world away..."   
  
"They need to know where Spike is," Jenny replied. "He's their only lead. Giles thought you might have vampire connections you could use to find him."   
  
Angel thought for a moment. "Well, there is one person I can call. She kind of owes me a favor."   
  
"Do it, and meet us at the condo when you're done." And then Angel was left listening to the hum of the dial tone.   
  
After a minute, Angel walked over to his antique, mahogany desk and pulled out an address book. Folded inside the pages was a crumpled bit of paper. He smoothed it out and took it back to the phone. Then he dialed the number.   
  
"Hello?" The childlike voice sounded soft and sleepy, as if she'd just woken up.   
  
"Darla, it's Angel."   
  
His sire's voice grew alert instantly. "Angel... what a surprise. The last time I saw you, you were so... virtuous. Did you decide to take another walk on the wild side?"   
  
"You know that's not true, Darla," Angel answered. "Gotta love a gypsy curse. They sure know how to stick."   
  
"Too bad, baby. You don't know what you're missing." Her voice went from playful to suspicious. "So, why call me up after all this time, lover?"   
  
"I'm not your lover anymore," Angel reminded her. The past was not something he loved talking about, even though it was something he could never get out of his mind. "I need a favor."   
  
"And you called little, ol' me... I'm stunned," Darla replied. "What makes you think I'd help a goody-goody vampire like you do anything."   
  
"You owe me, Darla!" Angel enunciated every word clearly, so she'd know he meant it. "When Sonya took the Master down, I got you out of there. I don't know why I did it..."   
  
"Family loyalty," Darla interrupted.   
  
Angel could visualize the catty smile on the small blonde's face. The image contrasted sharply with the last time he'd seen her, covered in dust and blood, begging because of the love they'd once shared (disgusting to him now though it was) to help her. He hadn't been able to refuse. At least now what could have been a huge mistake would come in handy. "Call it what you will, 'Mom'" he said sarcastically, "but you know that every day you live, you owe to me. And I'm calling in one of those favors."   
  
Realizing that she wasn't going to get anywhere with him, Darla replied, "What do you want?"   
  
"I need to know where Spike is. I know he's in England. Have you had any contact with him?"   
  
"I saw him about a month ago in Venice. We shared a nice, little tourist boy and talked about old times. He told me about what happened in Sunnydale. I told him he was right to get away from there..."   
  
"All right," Angel interrupted. "That's all lovely, Darla, but I need an address or a phone number."   
  
Darla sighed. "You're no fun anymore, baby. I miss the old you."   
  
"I don't!" Angel snapped. "Now tell me where Spike is or I'll come to Venice myself and hunt you down!"   
  
Darla sighed. "He told me if I ever come to England that I should look him up at a pub in London called the Knight's Downfall. It's one of those trashy demon bars -- just Spike's type. That's all I know."   
  
"Thanks," Angel replied. "It's been just lovely talking to you..."   
  
"Likewise, I'm sure." Darla returned sarcasm for sarcasm. "Does Spike know you're coming?"   
  
"I'm not... someone else is."   
  
"Poor Spike."   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
England -- The Scooby Gang's Hotel   
  
Giles hung up the phone and looked at the group of freshly washed and dressed young people gathered around him. If their anxiety didn't show on their faces, they would look like any group of teenagers starting a new day in a foreign country. Joyce stood in the back of the room, a worried look in her eyes. She was trying keep up a brave front, but somehow Giles could tell that underneath she was very worried about the missing duo. Almost as panicked as he was himself.   
  
"Well?" Buffy prompted him.   
  
"Angel found a lead on Spike," Giles told them. "Apparently, Spike frequents a pub called the Knight's Downfall. Rather like Willy's, it's an establishment that caters to the, shall we say varying tastes of demons, vampires especially."   
  
"What are we waiting for?" Buffy asked. "Let's go!"   
  
"We can't go now." Giles held up a hand in protest.   
  
"Why not?" Xander demanded.   
  
"You, Buffy and I must go to the Compound. We're expected there soon."   
  
"What does that matter when..." Xander started.   
  
At the same time Buffy was saying, "But she's supposed to be there, too..."   
  
"I know, I know," Giles interrupted them. "I don't want to go without her either, but there is not much good we can do during the daylight hours. Spike is more likely to show up at this pub after sunset. And while we're at the Compound we can let the Council know what has happened, so they, too, can put their resources into finding Sonya."   
  
Buffy looked at Giles suspiciously, remembering some of the things she'd heard about the Council from Faith, Nicole and Doyle. "How do we know we can trust them?"   
  
Giles looked at Buffy seriously. "If we can no longer trust the Council, then the world is in more trouble than just the loss of two people."   
  
"But you didn't trust the Council when Sonya had her accident," Buffy protested, finally giving voice to all the thoughts she'd been having since the letter summoning them to England had come to light. "What made you change your mind now?"   
  
"Things were different then, but I never lost my faith in the entirety of the Council," Giles replied. "Things were more confusing in the heat of the moment. And in all cases it is best to investigate before acting on unproven assumptions and alienating what could be a good resource."   
  
Buffy looked at Xander, and he seemed just as confused as she did, but in the end she realized that Giles was right about one thing -- it would make more sense to look for Spike after sundown. "So, what's the plan?" she asked the Watcher.   
  
"We go to the Compound, and Oz, Cordelia and Joyce stay here, in case we get word about Sonya," Giles said.   
  
"Wait!" Joyce protested. "I wanted to come to the Compound with you. That's the whole reason I came on this trip."   
  
Giles could see the resolve in her eyes. "If you must..."   
  
"I must," Joyce said firmly. She looked at Cordelia and Oz. "Will you two be all right without me?" They both nodded, though they looked at each other warily.   
  
"Then I'm going," Joyce repeated.   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
Sunnydale -- The Condo   
  
Angel walked into the condo and found he was the last to arrive. They had all congregated in the living room. He noticed Amy and the blond commando sitting next to each other on the couch and Jenny glaring at him impatiently, but it was Faith on whom his gaze settled.   
  
"Practicing those lock picking skills again?" he asked.   
  
She shrugged, every movement of her torso outlined by the black spandex that covered it. "It's not my fault you're always late..." Her lips curled up in a combination sneer/smile.   
  
"Angel!" Jenny said, stepping between them and blocking Faith from his view. "I need to speak with you."   
  
Back to business, Angel nodded and followed Jenny into Giles's study. Once inside, Jenny bypassed all the occult books and magic paraphernalia to pick up a copy of today's newspaper from on top of the desk. She opened the paper to page three and showed him an article circled in red magic marker. Angel read the headline: Two killed in wild dog attack.   
  
He looked at Jenny. "Werewolves?"   
  
She shook her head. "We've never seen any in town before. But we've seen something else just recently that might have done this..."   
  
Angel's eyes widened in comprehension. "Feral vampires."   
  
"Yes." Jenny pointed to a relevant paragraph in the article. "It says here that the wounds were located around the neck and upper torso. In my opinion, that's too messy for a normal vampire, but too discriminating for what I've read of werewolves. They tend to eat a good portion of the body when they attack."   
  
Angel nodded. "I think you're right. Good researching. Almost as good as Giles."   
  
"Speaking of Giles, when I talked to him earlier today he gave me a very odd assignment." She picked up a piece of parchment that had been on the desk under the newspaper and showed it to Angel.   
  
The vampire looked surprised. "But that's the spell..."   
  
"Yes," Jenny said again. "He wants me to derive a more general spell from this specific one."   
  
"But why? Has something else happened?"   
  
Jenny shook her head. "I don't know. He couldn't talk much as Oz and Xander were in the room with him."   
  
A thought occurred to Angel. "Is he worried about what the Council will do?"   
  
"I think..." Jenny paused, and then slowly gave voice to her theory, "... that he's just being careful. I don't think he knows who he can trust."   
  
"And there's not a lot we can do about that from here," Angel added sadly. "But he's got Buffy, Xander and the others."   
  
"I hope that will be a good thing," Jenny said, almost to herself.   
  
"Why wouldn't it be?"   
  
"I'm just getting an odd feeling. Large groups can have a pull that's hard to resist."   
  
"Sounds like you know something about that..." Angel looked at her and wondered, not for the first time, what other things went on in the life of Jenny Calendar.   
  
Startled, Jenny seemed to push the disturbing thoughts out of her head, and she changed the subject again. "But what we have to do is find out about these feral vampires. It seems unusual for there to be more than one at a time."   
  
Angel nodded. "It's very seldom that a vampire doesn't find a victim to feed on for the length of time it takes to go feral. It takes days... or even a week or more. But the Hellmouth does pull in the unsavory elements. I suppose feral vampires would be less able than normal vampires to resist the call."   
  
"That could be," Jenny agreed, "but either way, there's at least one more out there to catch."   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
England -- The Compound   
  
Giles drove the rented car at the upper edge of the speed limit the entire way to the Compound. If Buffy and Xander noticed he wasn't puttering along as usual, they didn't mention it. Instead they just sat in the back seat of the beige sedan whispering to each other. In the passenger seat, Joyce appeared to be admiring the view from the window as if this were a normal sight-seeing trip.   
  
They didn't stop until they reached the thick walls that surrounded the large, stone mansion that housed the Council's headquarters. In front of the imposing, iron gates, Giles stopped the car and rolled down his window. A uniformed security guard made his way from the tiny gatehouse to the car.   
  
"Are you on the list?" the young man said importantly, gesturing to the clipboard in his hands.   
  
"Rupert Giles, Buffy Summers, Joyce Summers and Alexander Harris," Giles replied crisply.   
  
The guard squinted down at his list. "I don't have a Joyce Summers. Only Buffy."   
  
"I'm her mother," Joyce said in her most imperious mom-voice. "Where she goes, I go."   
  
The mom-voice had no affect on him. "I'm sorry, ma'am, but no one gets in who isn't on the list." The guard touched the holster attacked to his belt for emphasis.   
  
"You must be new here." Giles gave the young whipper-snapper a stern look. "They are waiting for us inside, and if you do not let Ms. Summers in, we will have to turn about and drive all the way back to London to take her back to the hotel. Then our extreme tardiness will be on your head. Please, tell me your name so that I get it right when they ask me why we're so late."   
  
The guard looked nervous now. "Blackmoor, James Blackmoor. But... don't go back."   
  
"Well, Mr. Blackmoor," Giles continued in a calm voice that barely concealed his anger, "you, then, have two choices. I have the proper security clearances. Either let her in on my authority, or call the Proconsul's office and get clearance. I'm sure Proconsul Chamberlaine will be thrilled that you had to bother him for such a piddling matter as opening the gate. We'll wait here." Giles turned away from the guard without another word and struck a pose of waiting with his hands on the steering wheel and his eyes on the closed gate.   
  
The guard stared at Giles for a moment, and then hurried back to the gatehouse. A moment later, there was a loud clanking noise as the gates started to retract just enough for the car to squeeze through.   
  
"Wow, Giles," Xander said as they began driving up the circular driveway. "You sure gave him the business. Your use of blackmail was stellar."   
  
"I didn't think you had it in you," Buffy added, surprise evident in her voice. "You're usually so... er... well... polite."   
  
"He was getting on my nerves," Giles replied casually. "In my day the trainees weren't allowed to be so uppity to their elders."   
  
"HE is going to be a Watcher?" Xander asked incredulously.   
  
"Yes, well, the destiny to be a Watcher runs in families," Giles explained. "And sometimes that lends to less than perfect candidates."   
  
"So, you're not the first Watcher in your family, then," Buffy commented, trying to make sense of the enigma that was Giles. She realized this was one of the first bits of personal information she'd ever gleaned from him.   
  
"No," Giles replied. "I'm a third generation Watcher."   
  
"Did you want to do it?" Xander asked curiously. "I can't imagine going into the same line of work as my dad. I'm just not into welding."   
  
"I balked a little at first," Giles admitted, "but when I realized the importance that is behind the mission and duty of the Watchers, I came around." They pulled up to the front of the driveway, and he parked the car on the side. There was enough room in case another car needed to get by.   
  
Eager to stretch their legs, Buffy and Xander hopped quickly out of the car, leaving thoughts of Giles's past behind for the meantime. Joyce put her hand on his to stop Giles from leaving the car as well.   
  
"Thank you for that," she said softly, nodding back toward the gate.   
  
"It was nothing," Giles replied. "In fact, I'm surprised it impressed you all so much." Maybe it was something about being in England, but Giles realized he suddenly felt stronger, more forceful -- the way he'd felt in his younger days, something that had both gotten him in trouble and helped him win the coveted, though low-ranking, job as active Watcher. A squeeze on his hand pulled him back from his reflection, and he realized Joyce's hand still covered his own.   
  
"Well, it meant a lot to me," Joyce said with a soft smile.   
  
Giles could swear he felt himself begin to blush. He jerked his hand back and reached for the door handle. "Yes... well... we'd better get inside." Joyce nodded, and they got out of the car to catch up with the teenagers.   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
England -- The Cell   
  
The sun was brighter now. It warmed the chill that had seeped into Sonya's bones from sitting on the cold floor.   
  
"You would think they could have at least given us beds or chairs or a blanket or *something*!" she groused, pacing back and forth in the small space. "Isn't there some law against cruelty to prisoners... of course, it's probably in the same statute as the anti-kidnapping laws..."   
  
Suddenly, she was distracted from her absurd thoughts by a loud popping sound. She turned to Doyle to see the half-demon had somehow popped his neck so that it looked straight again, and now his eyes were open. As she watched, his spines and the greenish complexion that he'd had all the while he'd been unconscious slowly started to fade away.   
  
"Man," he groaned, "I feel like I been hit wi' a ton o' bricks. Where are we, anyway?"   
  
Sonya shrugged. "Don't know," she admitted. "But I think you were right about one thing."   
  
"O' course I was..." Doyle paused. "But, just so we both know... which thing was I right about this time?"   
  
"We had some visitor's this morning. Obviously Watchers."   
  
"Then the whole vampire attack was a set up," Doyle surmised, getting to his feet and shaking the knots out of his muscles. "Well, at least Cordelia is OK."   
  
"Probably so," Sonya agreed. "I'm sure Oz heard the fight over the phone and called in the Calvary, and she was in the suite when we chased after the vamps." She shook her head and sighed. "We were so stupid!"   
  
"Well, how was we ta know?" Doyle demanded. "They seemed like ordinary vampires ta me." He shrugged, and the action made him groan again.   
  
"You all right?" Sonya asked, concerned. "Should we bang on the door and demand that they call a doctor. Not that it will do much good, but we can try..."   
  
"Nah." Doyle laid back down on the floor. "I'll be fine soon. I'm much stronger in me demon face. I'll be OK in a jiffy. How are you?"   
  
"Fine," Sonya replied.   
  
Remembering the bullet wound, Doyle nodded. "Of course." He paused and then patted the floor next to him. "So... why don't you tell me the story o' your life?"   
  
"The story of my life? What good will that do?" Sonya looked at him askance.   
  
"Not much, I suppose," Doyle admitted, "but look around ye, lass. Thick walls, iron bars over the window, two doors... we aren't gettin' outta here 'til someone let's us out, so we might as well get ta know each other while we wait."   
  
Realizing he was right, Sonya sat down next to him and leaned her back against the wall. "I guess you're right, but I'm not going first."   
  
Doyle smiled at that. "I'll get it out o' ye, yet. But I'll start, if ye like. Let's see, the story o' me life... Well, I was born in Ireland, and I lived in a tiny little house wi' me ma an' me four brothers and sisters. The first time I went outside ta play I met this li'l tyke in the yard next door. He said his name was Aidan..."   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
England -- The Compound   
  
Buffy followed Giles and her mother in the front door of the Compound and looked around in awe. She held onto Xander's hand for comfort. The entry way was huge and grand. There were oriental rugs over the marble floor, the knick-knacks on the tables looked extremely valuable, as did the paintings on the walls. Everything about the place bespoke old money. For the first time, Buffy wondered how the Council had come to be, and where it got its funding. Grateful family members who were bypassed by the Watcher legacy perhaps?   
  
But even more intimidating than the classy surroundings was the crowd of people waiting for them in the lounge. A young man who said his name was Marcus guided them from the entry hall to where the assembly was waiting.   
  
"A few people to greet us, yeah right!" Buffy muttered to Xander from behind a fake smile. "This is a crowd... a mob, even."   
  
The room was bigger than the entire bottom floor of the house she shared with her mother in Sunnydale, and it was over half full. A fire blazed in the huge fireplace, and Buffy could feel her heels sinking into the plush, wine-colored carpet. Scattered around were antique tables covered with hors de ordeauvres and beverages and antique chairs, settees and couches for sitting on. Buffy was afraid to sit on one -- what if she crushed it or spilled something on it?   
  
"Don't worry, Buff," Xander whispered back, keeping a tight hold on her hand for both of their comfort.   
  
"Don't worry? Xander, they're all staring at me!"   
  
"That's cuz you're sort of like a celebrity to them," Xander replied, grinning at her. "THE Slayer that they've heard so much about, and that they've been training to help ever since they got here. It's probably a big deal to them."   
  
Before Buffy could decide whether that analogy made her feel better or more nervous, Giles was pulling her forward to meet people. Xander smiled at her for good luck as he hung back with Joyce near the food. And seconds later Buffy was introduced to a whirlwind of names and faces. Some stuck, others didn't; some people treated her normal, others looked at her with awe and a couple seemed a bit reluctant. What really stuck in her mind, however, was how they all looked the same -- and they looked very similar to Giles -- all clean cut, professionally dressed in suits (many of them tweed), a good majority of them wore glasses and they all seemed quiet and mature. She thought she caught a glimpse of Aidan in the background, but he didn't come over to them. She craned her neck a little, trying for a better look at the one person she recognized, and then Giles was pulling her forward again.   
  
"Buffy," he said in an odd tone, "I'd like you to meet Gwendolyn Post. In the chain of command, she's second only to the Proconsul himself."   
  
Buffy looked up to see a sleekly dressed woman wearing a navy blue suit dress. Her blonde hair was pulled up in a chignon from which not a single hair strayed. She had icy blue eyes and a pale complexion, and she was sticking out her hand for Buffy to shake. Buffy shook her hand, and felt a cold palm press up to her own.   
  
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Buffy," the woman said in a cultured British accent. "I've heard so much about you in the past few months..."   
  
"Yes, well..." Buffy stammered, unsure of what to say.   
  
"Proconsul Chamberlain asked me to convey his profoundest regrets to you," Gwendolyn continued. "You'll be meeting with him later in his chambers. He would have been here, but something... rather unusual... came up that needed his direct attention."   
  
"Anything that Buffy can help with?" Giles interrupted.   
  
Gwendolyn shook her well-coifed head. "No, Mr. Giles, but thank you. This is more in the administration vein, but still important, I assure you." Then she turned her attention away from Giles and focused it completely on Buffy. "Would you like to take a tour of the grounds, my dear? I'm sure you will find them interesting, especially our training areas. Did you bring a change of clothes for working out? Mr. Giles was supposed to tell you..."   
  
"Yes, ma'am," Buffy nodded, patting her oversized purse. "They're in here. But, could my mother and Xander come on the tour, too?"   
  
Without missing a beat, Gwendolyn nodded and said, "Of course, they may."   
  
Another man, who looked to be in his mid-sixties with salt and pepper hair, stepped up to the group and Gwendolyn hastened to introduce him. "Buffy, this is Edmund Barrows."   
  
"Pleasure to meet you, Buffy," Barrows said, gripping her hand tightly.   
  
"You, too," Buffy replied as she had so many times already, but there was something about this guy that she didn't like. But she couldn't put her finger on it. She decided it was just her introvert nature acting up again. With her friends to insulate her in Sunnydale, she hadn't been bothered by her shy tendencies lately, but they were still there under the surface, as they'd been since the horrible months when all her friends in LA dumped the 'poor crip.' She pulled her mind back to the present when she realized Gwendolyn was saying something else.   
  
"Mr. Giles, if you will go with Edmund while we go on the tour, he's got a few things that you must attend to before the proceedings."   
  
Giles didn't look happy about it, but there didn't seem to be another option. "Of course. Buffy, I will see you in a bit."   
  
"Good bye, Giles," Buffy called, watching him walk away with the other man. Then, before she could dwell on it too long, Gwendolyn gathered up Xander, her mother and Marcus -- the young man who'd met them at the door -- and took them off on the tour.   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
Giles left the lounge with Barrows despite the sinking feeling in his stomach. He didn't know Barrows very well, but the few times their paths had crossed before Giles had left for America, they hadn't hit it off well.   
  
As they walked in silence up the stairs, Giles searched his relatively good memory for any information on Edmund Barrows. What he came up with wasn't very encouraging. After Buffy's accident showed the Council that the destiny of Slayer did not make a girl invulnerable to catastrophe, there had been a huge backlash. Council members realized that had the Choosing happened a few seconds sooner, they would have ended up with a critically wounded Slayer who could do no good for the cause. Some of the reactions had been good, in Giles's opinion. They had resulted in more warriors, like Faith and her team, being trained to help the Slayer in her lonely war against the darkness. However, Barrows had taken the extreme position that the Council needed to be more hands-on with their role to the Slayer. He lobbied for more than one Watcher, and more extreme methods of training, even unto binding the Slayer emotionally to the Council. He had been over-ruled, of course, by the traditionalists, and Barrows had soon backed down so as not to compromise his high rank in Council hierarchy, but Giles still remembered the man's ideas with a touch of distaste. Barrows had been one of the reasons behind his actions after Sonya's accident.   
  
The sound of a door opening distracted Giles from his thoughts, and he looked up to see that they were entering a small lounge on the second floor. This one was much less grand than the first floor lounge which had been used to greet Buffy. It was furnished rather sparsely with a couch, some shelves and a table and chairs. There was a young, dark haired man wearing gold-rimmed glasses and a tweed suit waiting for them. Giles had never met the young man before.   
  
"Mr. Giles," Barrows said, "as you know, the tribunal starts tomorrow morning. While Miss Summers is accompanied on her tour, we wanted you to have some time to confer with your counselor."   
  
"I see," Giles replied. He shot a glance at the nervous-looking young man and wondered what he had done, or who's bad side he'd gotten on to get this job. "And who will be the prosecuting counselor?"   
  
A gleam entered the older man's eyes. "I will be."   
  
"Well, then," Giles said, feeling less optimistic than ever, "if you don't mind..."   
  
"Of course not," Barrows replied, all civility. "Take your time. Ms. Post will make sure that the Slayer is properly entertained."   
  
Giles thought about smiling at the irony of that statement, but he didn't. After Barrows took his leave, Giles shut the door behind him and turned to the nervous young man. "Hello, I'm Rupert Giles. And you are..."   
  
"Wesley Windham-Price," the young man replied, trying to disguise the nervous squeak in his voice. He cleared his throat, and shook Giles's hand with a surprisingly firm grip. "Well... I suppose we have our work cut out for us, don't we, Mr. Giles."   
  
Taking pity on the young man, Giles found a smile for him and gestured for the boy to take a seat. Sitting himself, Giles said, "Please, Wesley, call me Rupert. If you're going to attempt to defend me, we should be on a first name basis, don't you think?"   
  
"Er... quite," Wesley replied. Then he picked up a pencil and a pad of paper. "Well, Mr.... Rupert, why don't we go over the charges against you, and you can tell me your side of the story..." 


	12. Chapter 11

In the Space of a Journey  
Chapter Eleven   
  
Sunnydale -- The Condo   
  
Angel and Jenny had come out of the library only to collect Faith and take her in with them. From her position on the couch next to Terrance, Amy wondered what they were talking about in there. (Probably the night's schedule) she decided.   
  
Amy noticed the odd looks she was getting from both Rio and Nicole, but she ignored them. She and Terrance had spent the entire day together getting to know each other, and she already liked him a lot. He was witty, charming, handsome... and the accent didn't hurt either. If his teammates couldn't accept that he might have feelings for someone not in their group, then they could just go jump in the Hellmouth as far as she was concerned.   
  
"So," Terrance whispered, his breath tickling her ear, "what do you think they're talking about in there?"   
  
"That was just what I was pondering," Amy replied softly, her smile widening.   
  
"Great minds think alike, I suppose," Terrance answered with a wink.   
  
Amy blushed. "I guess they're planning tonight's schedule. You know, them big leaders, us worker drones."   
  
Terrance chuckled. "Rio said your Ms. Calendar is pretty demanding."   
  
Amy shrugged. "That's true, but she's very good at what she does. I've learned a lot from her... I've just had to be very willing to follow orders."   
  
"You know, I bet you're more ready than she thinks you are." Terrance stared deeply into her eyes. "I can see that you have talent... You just have to know what you want. Talents have big rewards, as long as you know when to grab the brass ring."   
  
She cocked her head to the side curiously. "Is that how you got where you are? By grabbing the brass ring?"   
  
"Let's just say that I knew what opportunities to take advantage of, and now I get to explore the world instead of moldering in some musty library." His serious expression dissolved into a smile. "And I got to meet you... that makes it all worthwhile."   
  
"Thanks!" Amy heard a giggle, and realized it had come from her mouth. (What am I doing?) she asked herself. (I'm giggling and flirting... I'm acting like Cordelia Chase! Bad, Amy! Be mature!)   
  
To change the subject, she asked, "So... do you know what your team is up to tonight?"   
  
Terrance shook his head. "No. Faith's being very closed-mouthed, and, well, Angel and I haven't found the proper footing for a communicative relationship."   
  
"You should try talking to him," Amy suggested. "I know he's kind of intimidating, but he's not too bad underneath."   
  
Terrance's eyes narrowed. "He's a vampire, Amy. He could kill you where you stand."   
  
"But he wouldn't..." Her voice trailed off and she felt a shiver run up and down her spine.   
  
Then Terrance's expression lightened, as if he realized they were of different opinions on the subject. "So... do you know what *your* team is doing tonight?" he asked, echoing her question from earlier.   
  
"I'm not sure," Amy answered, glad to be on a lighter topic of conversation, "but I think it's something big. Ms. Calendar said that Giles called her from England. He wants her to work on a spell derivation for him. I don't know what it is, though, or why he'd need it."   
  
The conversation was interrupted by the door to the library opening. Angel walked out, followed by Faith, and Jenny shut the door behind them.   
  
"Rio," Faith said, "You're going on patrol with Team A tonight."   
  
The young warlock looked surprised, but tonight he didn't say anything that could be considered a contradiction of orders. Instead, he merely began to strap on his weapon's belt.   
  
Giving her squad and Angel a meaningful look, Faith said, "Be ready to go in five."   
  
Terrance stood up and began strapping on his belt. Amy stood next to him. He glanced away from her nervously.   
  
"Um... do you want to go have breakfast again tomorrow?" he asked in a hesitant tone, as if he weren't sure of her acceptance.   
  
A huge grin split her face, showing off her perfect, white teeth. "I'd love to, Terrance."   
  
He sighed in relief. "Great. Meet you at the Rose Cup at nine?"   
  
"How 'bout we make it ten?" Amy suggested. "It is my vacation after all."   
  
"Sure," he agreed, smiling at her. "Anything for you."   
  
A warm blush colored Amy's cheeks as she grinned at him foolishly. Jenny had to speak twice before her trainee heard her.   
  
"Amy, would you go in the library and get me the parchment from the desk, please?"   
  
Amy jumped and looked around to see Jenny staring at her with a raised eyebrow. Amy knew Jenny wasn't angry -- Jenny didn't get angry very easily, at least not at her -- but Amy hurried to do as she asked anyway. With one last glance at Terrance, Amy hurried into the library. She opened the door and flipped on the light. Then she gasped, startled to see Faith standing by the desk.   
  
"What are you doing in here?" Amy asked sharply.   
  
Faith gave Amy an imperious look. "I was just looking up an article in the newspaper. It seems we have an outbreak of feral vampires on our hands."   
  
Amy raised an eyebrow, ignoring the bit about feral vampires for the moment. "Wasn't it a bit dark in here for reading?"   
  
"Not for me." Faith gestured toward the window, where the half-moon was clearly visible. "I don't need that much light to read."   
  
"Feel free to take the paper with you on your way out," Amy replied pointedly, stepping away from the door and walking over to the desk.   
  
Faith smirked and dropped the newspaper back onto the cluttered desktop. "I've got what I need. Thanks." Then she slowly strutted out of the room. Seconds later, Amy heard the sounds of Angel and the commandoes leaving the condo.   
  
"Weird," she mumbled to herself, shaking her head. Then she began rummaging across the desk for the requested parchment. She found it right under the discarded newspaper. Amy paused, glancing toward the door Faith had gone out of. "I wonder if she was really looking at the newspaper..." Then she heard Jenny call, and Amy hurried out of the room, filing the incident away to tell either Jenny or Angel about later.   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
England -- The Cell   
  
"An' that brings us to me vision, an' why I came ta England in the first place... I think ye know everythin' from there ta our present predicament... Yer turn!"   
  
Doyle grinned and leaned back against the wall, obviously waiting for Sonya to begin her story. But Sonya was still thinking about all he'd told her.   
  
"You really live like that?" she asked him seriously. "On the run from demon money collectors and whatnot?"   
  
He shrugged, the grin fading from his face. "It's a livin'. What can I say? I told ye about me an' Harry... after losin' her, nothin' seemed worth it any more. An' before I knew it, I was in too deep ta get out. I'm tryin', though... lem'me tell you. One o' these days I'm gonna get meself a real job, an' settle down again. I kinder miss teachin'... Maybe I'll take that up again... If we ever get outta this place!"   
  
A ghost of a smile appeared on her lips for a minute. "Doyle, I promise I'm not trying to insult you or anything, but it's really hard to envision you teaching third grade! Monitoring the playground, supervising sack lunches, writing math problems on the blackboard? It's so not you!"   
  
"Yeah, but it usta be me..." He looked pensive. "Those were some o' the happiest days o' me life..." Then, in typical Doyle fashion, he pushed the bad stuff away and plastered a big grin on his lips. "An' I never monitored the playground... I was out there playin' tag wi' the tykes! It's great fun, *and* great exercise!"   
  
Sonya quickly refined her mental image of Doyle. Now that he said it, she really could see him with the third graders -- he'd fit in perfectly!   
  
"Now, lassie," he chastised, breaking into her thoughts, "donae think yer gettin' off so easily! I told you the almost unabridged version o' me life... it's yer turn to do the same."   
  
"It's really not very interesting," Sonya hedged.   
  
"That's fine by me," Doyle replied easily. "As long as it fills the time. Besides, what else are we gonna do? Play I Spy? I spy a wall, I spy a window, I spy some bars... we're done. New game!"   
  
Despite the underlying bleakness of his joke, Sonya found herself laughing... again. Her sides had started to ache. Some of Doyle's past had been hard to hear about, but other parts of it had been side-splitting. The Irishman sure knew how to tell a tale. And he was right -- they were at the mercy of their captors, and it didn't seem like they were going anywhere soon. She might as well be as honest with him as he had been with her.   
  
She opened her mouth, and then shut it again. Sonya didn't know where to start or what to say. She never talked about herself when she could help it...   
  
"What's wrong?" Doyle asked. He cocked his head to the side and examined her with dark eyes that seemed to see right through her. "Stage fright? There's nothin' ta be scared of here, I swear. I'm a good listener."   
  
"I just... I just don't know where to start," Sonya admitted.   
  
"How 'bout at the beginnin'?" Doyle suggested.   
  
"The beginning..." Sonya's eyes took on a hazy, unfocused sheen as she gazed inward, back into the past. And then the floodgates opened, and she began to speak, almost forgetting Doyle was even in the same room.   
  
"Well, I guess the beginning was, I was born. Somewhere I had a mother and a father, but whoever they were, they didn't want me, so I ended up in this orphanage. But no one there wanted me either. I don't remember it too well, just this weird feeling of never knowing when the girl in the bed next to mine would get adopted, and knowing I never would. I tried to be nice, at first. I really thought if I was nice enough, or good enough, or pretty enough, then a mommy and a daddy would want to take me home with them and I'd live happily ever after, like a princess in a book of fairy tales. But that didn't happen...   
  
"And then, one day, when I was almost seven, a man and a woman showed up, just like in my dreams. They looked so neat and clean, and they asked to see me by name. The man had kind of gray hair and glasses, and the woman was young and blonde. They had accents, British ones, but I didn't know that then. And that was the first time I ever saw someone in a tweed suit. Before I knew what was happening, they had my stuff packed and I was out of there. 'This is it,' I told myself. 'Now you're going to have a real home, and a real Mommy and Daddy...' But it didn't work out that way.   
  
"They took me to this house in the suburbs. The first thing I remember about it was this broken shutter. It just hung there from one hinge, and it creaked when the wind blew. I thought it was going to fall down. There was a tricycle upside down in the yard, and a doll without any hair. One of her eyes was missing, too... I thought it was the saddest thing I had ever seen. The man and woman took me and my suitcase up to the front porch, and they rang the bell. An older woman answered. The whole thing is so vivid, even now... She was wearing a torn house coat and her hair was a mess. She looked worn out. I could hear kids screaming in the back of the house. The man gave her my suitcase and a white envelope, and the woman pushed me over the threshold, and then they just drove away... Later I found out that Mr. and Mrs. Crantz were being paid to keep me by the Council, but at the time I didn't understand what was happening. I remember dodging away from Mrs. Crantz and running after their car, but they didn't stop. They just drove away and left me there.   
  
"I did get my own room, so that was good. It was a tiny room, a closet really, without even a window, but it was mine. It had a mattress, a dresser and a cardboard box for my stuff. Mr. and Mrs. Crantz took in foster children for government subsidies. The Council must've given them extra for me... Somehow they knew I was a potential Slayer. You'd think they would have taken me away for training, but maybe they never really thought I'd get Chosen... Who knows?   
  
"I guess the only reason I had that closet to myself was that no one else could stand to be in there for very long. Mrs. Crantz had a little claustrophobia problem. I've never had that problem. When I got there, I was the youngest of five kids, but the numbers were always changing. It wasn't any use to get attached to anyone because soon enough they'd run away, they'd get sent to juvie, or the Crantzes would send them back because they 'didn't fit in.' When I left I was the oldest of nine, still living in the closet at fourteen years old. I had to help take care of the little ones after school -- a fulltime job for which I never got paid. But I guess I can consider myself lucky in some respects. The Crantzes never made any pretense of loving any of us, or really caring what would happen to us, but at least they never hurt us. You hear horror stories of foster parents, and regular parents for that matter, who beat up their kids, or who sexually abuse them. None of that happened.   
  
"And I had athletics at school to keep me occupied. There wasn't any time for friends because I had to help with the other kids, and who would want to be friends with one of those weird Crantz misfits anyway? But I could do sports. I couldn't do basketball or softball because I couldn't practice much after school, but the track coach let me be on the team if I promised to work out at home. My freshman year, I actually won a race at the track meet against a group of juniors and seniors. Little did I know that I had a genetic advantage.   
  
"And then one day after school I got this jolt. I felt energized. It was weird. I didn't know what was going on, but when I did my work out I ran three times as far as usual and I was barely winded. The next morning there was a knock at my door, and there stood this guy in a tweed suit. He had glasses and a British accent. He said his name was Mr. Giles, and he was there to take me for training. He gave Mr. and Mrs. Crantz a letter, I threw my stuff in my suitcase and my cardboard box, and he took me to Sunnydale.   
  
"I'll tell you, the first time I saw my room at his condo, I almost passed out. Now I know it isn't that big, but it seemed like a palace to me. There was a real bed, a table, a dresser, a closet, my own bathroom... such luxury. And no kids to take care of. And then he told me the catch. I was the Chosen One -- the one girl in the whole world who had the strength and skill to slay vampires and other minions of darkness. Of course, he neglected to mention to me that I wasn't really supposed to get the power. It was supposed to go to Buffy, I found out later. Apparently, there are at least a dozen girls, maybe more, at a time who *could* get Chosen, and we all have aptitude for things like weapons, strategy and fighting. But only one gets the powers. I don't know what force or whatever is behind the Choosing, and why they Choose who they Choose, but I'm glad it was me. I would never have asked Buffy to get hit by that truck, and I'm sorry for the pain she went through, but if I hadn't been Chosen, I would *still* be living in the Crantz house!   
  
"That first year in Sunnydale is a blur. I went to school, where I still didn't have time to make friends, but at least this time the job was a good one. And I had Giles. He's not much on bonding, but he just doesn't know how good he is at it... I trained a lot, and it was fun. The most fun I ever had -- even if the work was hard. There's the vampire, Angel -- he was cursed with a soul. He helped me some, but the best thing about him is fighting with him. As much as I hate to admit it, he taught me a few things here and there. And I remember the first time I met Xander... I saved him from becoming a vampire at the hand of his former best friend -- gotta love vampires with ties to the past. And after that, I couldn't shake him. Which turned out to be lucky for me when I met my match, this vampire they called The Master. I killed him, but his underground lair caved in and snapped my spine... But Xander saved my life. He pulled me out of there, and Giles promised they'd find a way to heal me. He was afraid the Council would have me killed so the next Slayer could be called -- that's why he's in trouble now, because he lied to them, and instead of curing me, he found a way to move the powers to Buffy..."   
  
It was like once the words started, Sonya couldn't make them stop. She talked about Buffy and Xander, and her old feelings for Xander. She told Doyle about being in a wheelchair, and the horrible, trapped feeling it gave her just to remember it. There was the story about the Order of Taraka, and Willow's vampire civil war against Spike. And then there was the story of Nathan, and how he made her secret desires come true in the worst possible ways. The only positive outcome of that had been her renewed ability to walk, for however long it lasted. And then there was Oz. She didn't know what to say about Oz. She liked him... a lot. And she thought he liked her, but somehow they never really managed to get it all straight. Maybe they had journeyed too far into the Friend Zone to ever get into a less platonic relationship...   
  
"Nah, that's just a bunch o' baloney!"   
  
Sonya's monologue trailed to a halt, and she looked up to see Doyle's brown eyes on her with a knowing gaze. It was the first time he'd spoken since she'd started her story... Sonya glanced at her wrist and sighed. They'd taken her watch, as well as her stake. Apparently they didn't want her to know how long she'd been here. But it had been a very long time. Her throat was scratchy, she'd been talking so much. But Doyle was a really good listener.   
  
"What?" she asked.   
  
"That you an' Oz will never have somethin'," Doyle answered firmly. "I may have been preoccupied, but even then I saw how he looks at ye. That one may not be a lad for many words, but ye can see it all in his eyes."   
  
"I know..." Sonya sighed.   
  
Doyle slapped his knee. "Ye see! That was a lover's sigh."   
  
"Well, what about you?" Sonya tried to get the spotlight off of her for a minute. It had been on her too long. "I've seen the sparks between you and Miss Cordelia Chase. Don't you think she's a little bit young for you?"   
  
"Hey, who cares 'bout age when yer talkin' romance?" Doyle replied.   
  
"Statutory rape laws," Sonya retorted. Then she added, "But if memory serves me right, she turned seventeen a month or so ago... I guess you're safe."   
  
Doyle's mouth fell open. "Yer tellin' me she's only seventeen?"   
  
"Yup!" Sonya borrowed one of Oz's favorite comebacks -- sometimes one word was really all you needed.   
  
"But she's so... so..."   
  
Whatever he'd been about to say was cut off by the scraping sound of the key in the lock. Doyle and Sonya both got to their feet and moved next to each other.   
  
"If it's something bad, we fight it together," Sonya said.   
  
Doyle nodded. "Agreed." Then he winked at her. "But if it's got a gun, I'm lettin' you take all the bullets!"   
  
Sonya barely had time for a surprised laugh when the metal door slid back...   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
Sunnydale -- The Waterfront   
  
A chilly wind rose from the water, blowing a light fog into Sunnydale Harbor. Angel didn't really like the fog -- it made his hair flat, from what he could tell -- but he could survive in it. It wasn't bad enough that they couldn't see, and even if it got worse, he could still hear and smell enough to find what they were looking for... if it was there.   
  
He glanced over at Faith. The brunette was trading flirtatious glances with a large guy dressed in black leather standing in the door of one of the run-down bars on the waterfront. Angel frowned.   
  
"Could we keep our mind on business, please?" he said sarcastically.   
  
Faith turned her head and eyeballed Angel with a pout. "You're ruining my fun. Bubba over there would have bought me all the drinks I wanted. It could have been a fun evening."   
  
"He would have been expecting a... payment," Angel felt obligated to mention.   
  
"Of course!" Faith replied in a well-duh tone. "And if I like him, I'd give it to him, and if I didn't, I'd crush his balls if he tried to force it. I'm very well equipped to take care of myself." Her crimson lips curled up in a sneer, and she spoke in an overdone Southern accent while fluttering her eyelashes at him. "But ah'm oh-so glad my manly man escort dah-cided to tell me befoah ah ran amuck..."   
  
Angel turned away from her and began scanning the harbor again. He was glad they'd finally walked far enough that Bubba was out of eyesight. "You can do whatever you want in your own time, Faith, but right now we're supposed to be hunting feral vampires."   
  
All the playfulness dropped out of her face and she glared at him. "Of course, I wouldn't do that right now! I might set something up for later, but right now we're working! And, just for your information, I've been scanning this whole time, and I haven't seen anything out of place. Besides we haven't reached the place where they found the victims of the 'wild dog attack' yet. That was Slip 19." She gestured to the dock they were passing at that moment. "This is Slip 15."   
  
He looked at her in surprise. "You had time to read the article?" He'd read it, of course, but he hadn't thought Faith had.   
  
"Of course!" Faith snapped. "You might want to keep all the information for yourself, but I do not go into battles blind!"   
  
Angel thought about a comeback, but they were getting close to Slip 19. He motioned her to be quiet, and they walked carefully up to the place. The victims had been found on the dock, as if they'd been waylaid on their way to board the pleasure boat docked in the slip. Angle had wondered what the couple was doing going out for a sail at night, but he knew there was no way to tell with some people. He glanced at Faith out of the corner of his eye. She seemed like the type to go on a pleasure cruise at night -- probably with a guy like Bubba! He scowled.   
  
Then suddenly, his enhanced hearing picked up something. A scream, coming from the other direction, the direction away from the harbor.   
  
"Come on!" he said to Faith. "Something's happening that way."   
  
Angel took off at a run, trusting that Faith would follow. He followed the sound through the first line of waterfront businesses. He threaded his way through an alley, and came out on another street. He stopped, straining his ears for another sound. "One more time," he urged silently, "just one more time. I've almost got it." Then he realized Faith wasn't behind him, but before Angel could do anything about it, he heard the scream again, and he was off. He'd have to handle this by himself.   
  
When he entered a darkened alley a few yards away, he saw a young girl crouching in a corner. Her escape route was blocked by a slender young man with slicked back red hair.   
  
"Excuse me," Angel said, laying a hand on the guy's shoulder. "I think the lady would like to leave."   
  
The guy turned around to reveal the fangs and ridged forehead of a vampire. In a deep voice he replied, "I don't think so, now get outta here buddy, or you're next."   
  
Angel grinned, and slowly his face morphed into that of a vampire. His fangs glinted in the moonlight as his smile widened. "You should be more careful who you're talking to... 'buddy!' Now let the lady alone!"   
  
The vamp looked stunned, but he wasn't willing to be scared off. "No, way, man. This is my meal. Find your own!" He threw at punch toward Angel, testing the waters.   
  
Angel returned the punch easily, and then he grabbed the guy's other fist and pushed it backwards until his arm broke. The cracking noise echoed around the alley. The red headed vamp howled in agony and rage. Angel was unmoved. The screams from the girl in the corner had dwindled down to tiny whimpers of pain.   
  
The red head lunged at Angel with his good arm outstretched. That was a mistake. Angel gripped the arm and broke it over his knee. The vampire looked up at Angel in complete surprise, his broken limbs hanging lifeless at his sides. Of course, Angel knew that the dude's preternatural healing abilities would kick in momentarily, so he had to make his move before that. Angel pulled a stake out of the pocket of his trench coat and slammed it into the vampire's chest. The vampire stared down at the intrusive bit of wood in surprise before bursting into a cloud of dust.   
  
Angel returned his stake to his pocket, and then took several calming, cleansing breaths. After a second, his game face vanished, and he turned back to the girl. "You're all right now. You can go."   
  
The girl was young, barely thirteen. Her pale skin was dirty and streaked with tears. A bruise marred one cheek, and her blue-black hair was matted and covered with vampire dust. She stared at his hand doubtfully, obviously remembering that he had the same visage as her attacker. "You're not going to..."   
  
"No," Angel answered, shaking his head. "You're free to go. Go home."   
  
The girl's chin trembled. Angel wondered if she'd be safe walking to wherever her home might be. She was definitely too young to drive. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a wad of bills. Selecting two, he put them into her hand. "This is for a cab. That way no one else can jump you."   
  
"Th... thank you," the girl stammered, but she still didn't seem inclined to move.   
  
Angel decided that she might feel better if he left. He walked out of the alley and across the street. From the shadows, he watched the girl walk hesitantly out of the alley and hail a cab.   
  
"Forces of good, one; minions of darkness, zero!"   
  
Angel turned to see Faith standing behind him, a pleased grin on her face. "Where were you?" he demanded angrily. "I thought we were in this together."   
  
Faith shrugged. "You ran off so fast, I didn't see which way you went. When I finally caught up to you, it seemed you had the situation well in hand." She paused, and when she spoke again, her voice was free for once of any sarcasm or hostility. "And I wanted to know if you'd really dust him, one of your own kind. But you did. I guess you're on the level after all."   
  
Angel rolled his eyes. "I've been saying so all along..."   
  
"Well, I didn't really believe it before." Her tone went back to its normal edgy sound when she added, "And you missed something when you went running off like that."   
  
"What? The girl was in danger. That's my job."   
  
"I saw one, but it's long gone by now."   
  
"A feral vampire?"   
  
"Yep. And we missed tracking it to its lair because some teenaged bimbette decided to take a stroll on the water front looking for some excitement!" Faith shook her head, making her hair sway back and forth. "The girls in this town really need to take a self defense class or something if they're gonna walk the streets at night."   
  
"I'm sure you could teach them everything they need to know," Angel replied in a snide tone. "Especially on how to pick up guys in bars." Frustration at missing what could have been their only lead made him tense. He knew he was taking it out on Faith, but he didn't really care. She'd been taking things out on him since the first moment he met her.   
  
The sneer came back to her lips. "If I'd known it would make you so jealous, I would have done it a long time ago," she replied in a falsely sweet tone of voice. Then she turned and began walking back toward Slip 19. "Now, c'mon, hero-boy. Let's give the place a once over. Maybe we can find a clue."   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
England -- The Compound   
  
"Sir, it's your contact in Sunnydale."   
  
The man nodded, effectively dismissing the messenger, and then he picked up the phone, pressing the button that activated his secure line.   
  
"You have information?"   
  
"Things are progressing on this end. Apparently there's been an outbreak of feral vampires."   
  
"How does that effect your mission?"   
  
"It's the perfect cover."   
  
"What about the vampire?"   
  
"Intrusive, but under control. He has the witches wrapped around his little finger, the dumb sluts."   
  
"Good. Anything else?"   
  
"Giles called them today."   
  
"What about?"   
  
"He wants them to prepare some kind of spell for him. I'm not sure what it does or why he wants it, but I'll have that information soon."   
  
"Call me as soon as you know more details. Day or night."   
  
"Yes, sir. I will."   
  
"I'll be waiting." Then the man hung up the phone and sat back in his chair. Swivelling around so he faced the window, he looked out into the golden afternoon to see the Slayer and her tour group headed back toward the main part of the Compound. He smiled.   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
England -- The Compound   
  
When she, Xander, her mother, Marcus and Gwendolyn got back to the mansion, Buffy felt like more information had been stuffed into her head in the last hour than in a whole week's worth of algebra classes. The Compound had every amenity, and they'd toured them all -- everything from twenty-four hour computer/internet access in what had to be the biggest private library ever built (with the largest collection of occult books) to a stable full of horses, to indoor and outdoor exercise courts with any fitness tool you could ask for.   
  
"And, of course, you're welcome to use the courts at any time while you're here," Marcus was saying to Buffy. "They were first built for Slayer training, back in the days when most Slayers were brought here for training before we sent them off into battle."   
  
Buffy wondered what that would have been like -- to have weeks, or months or more to train before coming face-to-face with one's first vampire. Then she realized Marcus was still talking.   
  
"...but things are different now. The evil more pervasive. The time away from the battle just can't be spared." He seemed to catch himself babbling, and suddenly stopped.   
  
They walked up the front steps, and Gwendolyn gave the younger man a stern look, and then asked, "Is there anywhere else you'd like to go, Buffy?"   
  
"Actually," Buffy said, "I'd really like to go to the ladies' room, if you don't mind."   
  
"Of course," Gwendolyn agreed. "There's one right down this hall. If you like, we'll take your mother and your friend back to the lounge, and you can meet us there, Buffy."   
  
Buffy glanced at the others, and they seemed amenable. Marcus was smiling at her. She felt odd being deferred to so much, especially by someone like Gwendolyn, a woman so much older than herself. But it was kind of nice, in a way. She remembered what Xander had said about her being like a celebrity to the Watchers, and a small smile crossed her lips.   
  
Aloud, she said, "That's fine. I remember where the lounge is." Then she went into the ladies' room, glad for the chance to be alone for a minute. After taking care of business, Buffy washed her hands in the marble sink and dried them on a fluffy, maroon towel. Then she opened her oversized purse, and dug around for her lipstick. Her hand brushed something unfamiliar. Something thin with a hard edge. Frowning, she pulled out a thick, cream-colored envelope. Her name was written in script across the front.   
  
After glancing around to make sure she was alone, Buffy tore open the envelope. The odd feeling in her stomach solidified into several five-tone butterflies when she recognized the letter head as the same from the letter Giles had gotten so many months before. The letter was dated with today's date. The handwriting was exceptionally neat and perfect. If it hadn't obviously been written in ink, she would have suspected someone of using a script-like computer font to print this letter. There were no names other than hers on the letter. She began to read, the feeling in her stomach getting worse with each word.   
  
Buffy -- The Council is not always what it seems. There are some who would rather that Giles, Sonya and Doyle did not return to America again. Everyone here with you is in danger, even you, if they do not find you amenable to their plans. Be careful whom you trust. Sincerely, a friend.   
  
Her heart was beating fast, and little beads of sweat decorated her forehead. Buffy wet the corner of the towel and used it to cool of her hot face. Now what was she supposed to do? From this note, someone here at the Compound knew where Doyle and Sonya were. But they didn't give her enough information to mount a rescue. And it sounded like whoever wrote this note thought Giles was about to be railroaded during the tribunal.   
  
She wondered if there was any way it was some kind of trick -- a test of her loyalty to the Council or something. But that seemed ridiculous. When she got herself back under control, Buffy put the letter back in the envelope and slid it into the lining of her purse so no casual glance could reveal it. She had a feeling that if someone found it on her person, it could be bad. Then she left the bathroom, and headed for the lounge, hoping that she would soon have a chance to speak with Giles. He was the only one who might know what this meant -- he was the only one of them with any knowledge about the inner workings of the Council.   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
Sunnydale -- Slip 19   
  
"There's nothing here!" Angel exclaimed in frustration, throwing down the board he'd been examining for clues. It had blood on it, he could smell it, but it was the blood of the victims, not a new clue. The board clattered to the ground, coming to a stop beside the chalk outlines on the ground. Someone -- probably a denizen of the waterfront who disliked the police -- had removed the yellow police tape long before Angel and Faith got there, but the chalk outlines of the dead man and woman remained, and probably would remain until the next rainfall.   
  
Faith looked up from her position on the deck of the boat. "There's nothing here either."   
  
Angel aimed a kick at the side of the boat, hoping to vent a little of the anger and the sense of helplessness that were overwhelming him. There was a dull thud as the side of the boat dented in. Angel lowered his foot, a little embarrassed.   
  
Faith was grinning at him. "That's it, it's time for us to pack it in." She glanced at her watch. "It's past one, and our areas have all been patrolled. You even dusted a vamp. I'd say we call this a night well spent and find something more fun to do."   
  
"We have to go back to the condo," Angel said. "They'll be waiting for us with reports." The idea of quitting for the night was appealing, however, and he decided that he might actually do that for once. They weren't getting anything accomplished here, so what was the point of hanging around.   
  
"How boring is that?" Faith quirked an eyebrow at him. "You'd think that in all the decades you've been alive, you'd have learned something a little more fun than that."   
  
"In all my decades, what I've learned is to take responsibility," Angel replied. "That's what having a soul means. When the demon was in control of my body, I wreaked havoc, killing without mercy, taking whatever I wanted, and now there are consequences to pay."   
  
"Play now, pay later?" she asked.   
  
"Something like that," Angel replied. He knew there was no way to make her understand. She was, and always had been, a human. She'd never done anything to atone for. "So, are you coming back with me?"   
  
Faith hopped out of the boat, landing on the dock with a feline grace. She seemed to be pondering the notion. "You know, I don't think so. You want to be the big leader, Angel, you go back. I'm taking the rest of the night off." Reaching for one of the holsters on her belt (most of the things on her belt were covered by leather, so her arsenal wasn't obvious when they walked down the street), she unclipped it and pulled out her radio.   
  
"Terrance," she called, holding down the talk button. "Do you read me?"   
  
"Yes, I'm here," came the Brit's recognizable accent.   
  
"Find anything?" Faith asked, taking care of business first, Angel noted.   
  
"No," Terrance answered. "No sign of the ferals anywhere. We were going to do one more sweep and then rendezvous with you back at the condo."   
  
"Check that," Faith replied. "I think we've all had a pretty rough time getting adjusted here, and I don't know about you, but I'm still adjusting to the jet lag factor. Save your reports for tomorrow, and take the rest of the night off for some sleep or whatever. If you need me, use the radio. I'll have it on. Otherwise, I'll see you back at the motel later."   
  
"Sounds good," Terrance said, and the other two commandos could be heard making happy noises in the background. "Thank you, Faith. Some time will be good."   
  
"Don't forget," Faith cautioned. "If you see any trouble, you still have to deal with it, no matter what you're doing."   
  
"Of course!" Terrance sounded affronted, like he couldn't believe she would think such a thing of him.   
  
Faith apparently heard the same thing in his voice, and added, "I know you will, but I just have to make the order. Over and out."   
  
"Over and out," Terrance said in a clipped tone. Then Faith turned off and holstered her radio.   
  
She looked at Angel with her hands on her hips. "Well, I guess I'll see you tomorrow night. Have fun back at the condo." The she turned and began strolling slowly back down the waterfront in the direction of Bubba and his bar.   
  
Angel watched her hips sway back and forth until her and her black suit disappeared into the shadows. Then he reluctantly turned to head back to the condo. Suddenly a thought occurred to him. What kind of trouble would Faith get into on her own?   
  
"I'd better go keep an eye on her," Angel decided. "Yeah, that would be the best thing for everybody." He pulled his brand new cellular phone out of his pocket and punched in the number of the condo, now glad that he'd finally made the investment. When Jenny answered, Angel quickly told her about the sighting and how they'd lost it with no trace because of the girl in the alley. Then he said they were giving up for the night, and would start again fresh the next evening. Jenny didn't seem extremely pleased, but she didn't contradict him. She said she and Amy had a little more work to do on the spell for Giles, and then they would go home as well. A minute later, Angel ended the call, and began to walk in the direction Faith had disappeared. 


	13. Chapter 12

In the Space of a Journey  
Chapter Twelve   
  
Sunnydale -- The Waterfront   
  
After calling Jenny, Angel walked down the waterfront in the direction Faith had disappeared. He guessed she had gone back to the bar where she'd been flirting with the guy in black leather. Angel hoped to get there before she did something that got her in trouble. Yeah, Faith could probably take one guy, but in places like this, Angel knew from past experiences, sometimes there was more than one guy. And Faith seemed just the type to start a bar brawl. Then again, she'd only been out of his sight for a little over ten minutes -- how much trouble could she have gotten herself into, anyway?   
  
He found the place easily, even without the guy Faith had dubbed Bubba standing in the doorway. It was rundown, full of smoke, and Angel could smell the alcohol several yards away. He walked inside and found a convenient spot near the door to lurk and scan the crowd.   
  
Faith wasn't hard to find. She was sitting on top of the bar wheedling tequila shots out of the bartender, and her group of admirers. A group of men of varying ages and dirt levels were cheering her on, led by Bubba. The brunette's flushed cheeks told Angel that she'd already downed several of the potent shots.   
  
"C'mon, baby," Bubba called to Faith. "Do another! Six shots this quick beats Timbo's record."   
  
"Don' do it!" another guy slurred. "It'll put ya under tha table, an' then we couldn't talk to ya no more."   
  
Faith took that comment as an insult. "You think I can't do it?" she challenged. "I bet I can drink more than anyone in this bar..."   
  
"A li'l bit of a thing like you?" an older man answered. "No way!"   
  
"Bet'cha a hundred dollars," Faith challenged.   
  
Angel decided this was his moment to step in. He walked forward, pushing his way through the crowd of guys until he stood next to the bar. Faith's head was a little above his. Her eyes widened when she saw him there.   
  
"So, decided to have a little fun after all?" she asked.   
  
He didn't notice any obvious slurring in her voice, or any unstableness in her movements. Angel figured the tequila hadn't had time to hit her bloodstream yet. "I think we should get out of here," he told her quietly.   
  
"No way!" Faith protested very loudly. "I'm not leavin' until I'm good and ready!"   
  
Bubba heard her and clamped a hand on Angel's shoulder. Looking at Faith, he asked, "Is this guy bothering you?"   
  
Faith grinned and shook her head. "Nah, it's OK. He's just a stick-in-the-mud. Doesn't know how to party!"   
  
"Ah..." Bubba nodded knowingly. "My brother-in-law's like that. Once we just had to loosen him up."   
  
"How'd you do that?" Faith asked, crossing her legs and letting them dangle off the bar.   
  
When Bubba finished oogling her legs, he answered, "We gave him a few of these." He handed Angel a tequila shot of his own, and then told the bar tender, "Put it on my tab."   
  
Angel tried to give the small glass back to him. "No... no thanks."   
  
"I insist," Bubba replied, giving Angel a meaningful look.   
  
Taking another shot of her own, Faith looked at Angel over the rim. "I dare you."   
  
Angel watched her swallow her shot in one gulp, and before he even realized that his hand had moved, the foul taste of tequila filled his mouth. He sputtered, but managed to swallow it. The men laughed. Faith looked at him with a touch of approval in her eyes, and handed him a slice of lime. "I didn't think you had the guts. But not even you can out-drink me..."   
  
"Yeah, baby!" Bubba crowed happily.   
  
Before Angel knew what was happening, another shot was pressed upon him. He drank it down with Faith's eyes on him the whole time. This one went down a little easier than the previous one. No one laughed at him this time.   
  
Several shots and a good while later, Angel found himself looking blearily at the pile of empty glasses on the bar, knowing that each one had been matched by Faith. It was disappointing, because for some reason he'd wanted very badly to outdo her. But she'd had a significant head start.   
  
With effort, he moved his eyes up to meet hers. She had a silly grin plastered on her face. It took Angel a minute to both figure out what he wanted to say, and to get his tongue to say it, but finally he managed to say, fairly intelligibly, "I think you won, Faith."   
  
"Angel," Faith slurred, "wanna go dancin' wif me? I wanna go dancin'."   
  
"Sure, why not," Angel agreed, conveniently forgetting that he hated to dance. The last time he'd gone dancing had been with a gypsy girl, and that hadn't turned out to well for him. He fished in his pockets and found a wad of cash. He stared at it.   
  
Realizing that Faith was leaving, Bubba grinned at Angel. "Way to go, stick-in-the-mud. Now, lem'me help you with that." Then he took the cash out of Angel's hand.   
  
"I gotta get down," Faith announced suddenly. "Wash out below..." With that, she hopped off the bar and very nearly crashed onto the floor. Angel tried to catch her, but he only managed to grab one arm, slowing, but not stopping, her fall. Faith grabbed his arm to pull herself up from the floor, and almost ended up pulling him down with her. The guys around them laughed, and Faith and Angel joined in.   
  
With Bubba's help, Angel finally managed to get Faith back on her feet, though she swayed back and forth a little. Bubba took several bills off of the wad, and then handed the rest back to Angel. "Use it for a cab, buddy," he advised.   
  
"S'OK," Angel replied. "We'll jus' walk..."   
  
"It's not always safe after dark," Bubba reminded them.   
  
Faith's head jerked up, and suddenly she was right in Bubba's face. "I can take care of myshelf misher, and I'll kish the mouf of anyone who shays otherwise."   
  
"Kiss?" Bubba questioned with a leer, but he backed off when Faith scowled ferociously at him.   
  
"I think she meant crush," Angel said, laughing. It seemed extremely funny to him.   
  
"C'mon, Angel," Faith ordered, turning her back on Bubba. "Lesh get outta here."   
  
Angel followed her out of the bar, wondering suddenly what time it was. He squinted down at his watch, but the tiny hands seemed to blur together.   
  
"Come dansh wif me, Angel!"   
  
He looked up just in time to see Faith climb clumsily up onto the ledge that separated the street from the water of the harbor. It took him a minute to walk over there because his feet weren't exactly following orders, but he finally made it. Angel looked up at her, and noticed the way the moonlight halloed her mahogany hair. "You're so pretty," he mumbled.   
  
Faith smiled. "Really?"   
  
"Yeah," Angel agreed, leaning against the ledge. He looked down. It was a long way down. The ledge was just wide enough for one person to stand normally.   
  
"You're pretty, too," she replied, stifling a hiccup. Then she began to twirl around. Once, she almost lost her balance when one of her feet missed the ledge entirely. Angel reached up and managed to steady her. "Oopsi-daisy," Faith muttered, and she began to giggle.   
  
Looking down at the water again, Angel began to have a bad feeling about this. "You shouldn't dance here, Faith," he said. "Kinda dangerous."   
  
"I live for danger!" Faith yelled at the top of her lungs. She jumped crazily, and landed wrong. She wavered back and forth on the edge of the drop-off until Angel pulled her off. But he pulled too hard, and she came all the way off the ledge on the street side. Faith landed heavily on top of him, knocking them both down onto the dirty street. Faith looked up at him with soulful, brown eyes. "You shaved my life," she slurred gently. She reached up and touched his cheek. "Thanks." Then with a sigh, she closed her eyes and passed out.   
  
Angel was a little more alert by this time. He knew he had to get her back to her motel, and he had to do it before dawn. He picked Faith up easily, and cradled her in his arms like a baby. All thoughts of a taxi, however, flew out of his head, and he started the long walk to her hotel. By the time he was almost there, he had sobered up quite a bit.   
  
"Cab, Angel," he told himself with a groan. "Next time, call a cab."   
  
When they got to the motel, he shook Faith and said, "You've got to tell me what room you're in!"   
  
She stirred a little. Enough to mumble something that sounded like "Seventeen." Then she was completely out again.   
  
Angel walked to room seventeen, but no one was there. The lights were off in all the rooms surrounding it, too. If this was the right place, the other commandos weren't home yet. Angel realized he had nowhere to take her, and he couldn't just leave her there. He got an idea, and, setting Faith down on the ground for a minute, he pulled her radio out of her belt. But no one answered. He tried all the frequencies, but couldn't raise Terrance or any of the others. Angel looked at his watch. It was getting really close to dawn. He had to get somewhere safe. He looked at Faith lying on the ground. What should he do with her? Picking her back up, he decided to take her with him, back to his apartment.   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
England -- The Cell   
  
Doyle and Sonya stood with their eyes glued to the sliding metal door. It opened to reveal the young man Sonya had seen earlier, Marcus. He held a tray of food.   
  
"Hello," he said pleasantly. "I see you're both up and all right."   
  
"No thanks to you and your vampire goons," Sonya retorted bitterly.   
  
"I am sorry about that." Marcus shook his head sadly.   
  
"Yeah, I bet." Sonya glared at him. "What are you going to do with us now?" She wondered if she ought to let on that she knew the Council was behind this, but she decided not to, yet.   
  
"Well, right now, I'm going to give you your dinner." Marcus balanced the tray on one hand and pulled the plastic credit card key out that opened the electronic lock on the bars door out of his pocket. "I'd like you both to step back against the wall, please. And, for goodness sake, don't try anything. There are electric currents embedded in the floor. If you try to jump me, one press of a button, and neither of you will be very happy. I really don't want to have to do that."   
  
Sonya thought he looked almost sad as he watched them move back. When they were against the wall, Marcus opened the door, set the tray inside on the floor, and then closed and re-locked the door. "Bon appetite," he said with a smile. "Oh, and if you need anything while you're staying with us, all you have to do is yell. There's a guard stationed right outside your door. He'll hear you." And with that, Marcus shut the sliding metal door again, leaving them alone.   
  
Doyle and Sonya exchanged looks.   
  
"They must think we're valuable prisoners ta give us our own, personal guard," Doyle said, shaking his head.   
  
"What do they want with us?" Sonya wailed. "I can't think of any reason..."   
  
"I know why they want me," Doyle interrupted. "Me vision. It told me that there was somethin' fishy goin' on wi' the Council. I guess that the somethin' fishy involves part, if not all, of whoever makes the decisions around here. They want to shut me up. That's why they took me, and why they had that airport dude try ta kill me."   
  
Sonya nodded. That made some kind of sense. "But why would they take me? Just because I was there? I mean, they didn't take Cordelia, and she was there."   
  
Doyle shrugged. "Have ye ever done anythin' that the Council objected to? Is there some reason why they'd want ye quiet?"   
  
"Well..." Sonya hesitated and then said, "maybe it's because of Giles. Because of how he kept me alive without telling them the truth, I mean. I am the only ex-Slayer still living. That and my healing abilities are pretty much the only unique things about me..."   
  
"I'd say that was a good guess," Doyle agreed. "Though I guess we willnae find out fer sure until they decide to tell us."   
  
"Or until we're rescued," Sonya added.   
  
Doyle looked at her in surprise. "Yer thinkin' we'll be rescued?"   
  
"My friends will come for us," Sonya said positively.   
  
"Ye think so?' Doyle asked incredulously. "How are they gonna find out where we are? An', no offense, but they didnae seem very willing to suspect the Council of wrong-doings. I think we're gonna have to get outta here ourselves... if we can."   
  
"That would be good," Sonya agreed. "Maybe the next time they open the door we can do something, but if it doesn't work, I know Giles, Buffy and the others. They won't rest until they find me." The thought of Oz flashed through her mind. She missed Oz. He had this way of always making things seem better than they were. She wished she was with him right now.   
  
"It must be nice to have friends ye can count on like that," Doyle remarked quietly. "I only have one friend in London, an' he's not expectin' ta ever see me again. He will never notice I'm gone." He paused for a minute, thinking bleak thoughts, then he pushed them away and said, "Enough o' this! I'm gonna eat. I'm starvin'!" He walked over to the tray, and looked at the two plates. Each was covered by a silver, dome-shaped cover. They were labeled, Sonya and Doyle. Doyle took the one with his name on it and sat down to eat. He uncovered it to find a pint of ale, a bowl of hearty beef stew, a pile of green beans and a thick slice of bread. His stomach growled. Doyle looked over at Sonya who was contemplating her own tray of food, which included a soda, a hamburger, french fries and a cookie covered in powdered sugar. He picked up his glass and gestured to her with it. "Cheers."   
  
"Wait!" Sonya cried before he could get the glass to his mouth. "Don't you think it's a little odd that they labeled our plates. What if they poisoned them or something? Maybe we shouldn't eat them..."   
  
Doyle looked from the steaming stew to Sonya and back again. His stomach growled again. It had been over twelve hours since his last meal. "Nooo!" he protested.   
  
"Why else would they prepare something special, and different, for each of us?" Sonya asked.   
  
Doyle set the tray down and flopped down onto the floor on his back. "Now what?"   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
Sunnydale -- Angel's Apartment   
  
They beat the dawn, but not by much. Angel laid Faith down on one side of his bed with a sigh of relief. She was heavier than she looked, and now he was very tired. The depressant part of the alcohol was kicking in. He kicked off his shoes, dropped his coat on the ground and lay down next to her. A few seconds later, he was asleep.   
  
A hand on his chest woke him up. Angel cracked open his eyes to see Faith leaning over him. "Now that you have me here," she asked, almost all of the slur gone from her voice, "what *are* you going to do with me?"   
  
"Sleep?" Angel croaked, fighting a sense of deja vu. He could still feel the affects of the alcohol in his system, so they couldn't have been there very long, but he could also sense that the sun was fully up in the sky.   
  
"Sleeping's no fun..." Faith's fingers began to unbutton his red, silk shirt.   
  
Suddenly, Angel wasn't sleepy any more. "I don't think..."   
  
She interrupted him with a kiss. A hard, punishing kiss. He could feel her teeth pressing against his lips. And then he was kissing her back just as passionately. It had been a really long time, and Faith had been driving him crazy since the first moment he saw her.   
  
Abruptly, Faith pulled back. She gave him an odd look. Angel returned the look, for once completely unsure of what to do. He wondered if she was already regretting this. "It's daylight, now," Angel said quietly. "You can go, and I can't follow."   
  
In a lightning quick move, Faith lunged down and nipped his ear with her teeth. Angel groaned. Faith straddled him with her muscular legs, and leaned down to whisper huskily, "Don't be a stick-in-the-mud, Angel."   
  
He looked into her laughing eyes for a minute, and then reached up for her. He tangled his fingers into her hair, and roughly pulled her down until their lips met again. Soon all thoughts of should or shouldn't vanished from their minds, as pure sensation took over.   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
England -- The Cell   
  
"I'm so hungry!" Doyle complained for about the millionth time.   
  
Sonya looked over at him. "I know, I am, too, but it is worth the risk?"   
  
Suddenly, the half-demon sat up. "You know what? It is. I'm eatin' right now. I cannae wait any more!"   
  
"Stop!" Sonya cried. Her mind worked busily for a second, and then she said, "How about this. I'll try mine. If there's poison, I'll feel it, but I'll heal a lot faster than you will."   
  
Doyle looked at her seriously. "Ye'd really do that fer me?"   
  
"Sure," Sonya said.   
  
Doyle smiled. "Thank ye, lass."   
  
She dismissed the compliment. "Don't worry about it. I'm hungry, too." She looked down at her tray. First she picked up the glass of soda and took a sip. It seemed normal. Then she picked up her cookie.   
  
"Yer startin' wi' dessert?" Doyle asked in surprise.   
  
"It's better that way," Sonya replied, taking a big bite. She barely chewed before she swallowed. "Oh, wow -- this is the best cookie I've ever had!" Then she grimaced.   
  
"You OK?" Doyle asked quickly. "Poison?"   
  
Sonya touched her throat. "I think... I think I just need to chew more. That was a little scratchy going down."   
  
She took another bite. This time she chewed more slowly. Sugar crunched between her teeth.   
  
"So, ye think it's all right to eat?" Doyle asked, looking hungrily at his plate of rapidly cooling stew.   
  
Still chewing, she was about to say it was all right, then she tasted an odd coppery taste in her mouth, accompanied by a sharp pain. She dropped the cookie and put her hand up to her still-full mouth. Her fingers came away coated with blood. Her eyes widened and she hurriedly spit out some of the cookie. The pink-tinted blob hit the floor with a splat. She began to choke, and Sonya had to swallow some of what was in her mouth.   
  
Dropping his spoon back in his stew, Doyle looked at her in alarm. "What's wrong?"   
  
Sonya could feel a searing, scratching pain as the bit of cookie made its way down to her stomach -- like glass rubbing over a would she already had. Suddenly, she closed her eyes, and clamped her hands to her stomach. A low groan came out of her mouth.   
  
"Sonya!" Doyle cried, rushing to her side.   
  
She opened her mouth to reply, and instead she let out a blood-curdling scream. The pain was getting worse and worse with each passing second. Clutching his sleeve, she said, "Doyle, it hurts! It hurts!" She screamed again.   
  
Doyle's eyes widened in horror. A trickle of blood came out of the side of her mouth. Then she coughed, and more came spilling out, all over Doyle's arm. She moaned and jerked back and forth, blood running from the corners of her mouth and dripping on the floor.   
  
"What can I do, Sonya?" Doyle asked wildly. He was afraid to touch her or try to move her, but he was also afraid not to. The keening noise coming from her mouth was getting louder. Her shirt was soaked in blood, and more of the thick, red liquid had smeared all over her face. Her hair was matted in it again.   
  
Sonya screamed again. "A million knives... tearing up my stomach." Blood bubbled out with each word. Whatever she'd eaten, it was something worse than your normal, everyday poison.   
  
Doyle jumped up, reached through the bars and banged on the metal door with all his strength. It was enough to bruise his hands. "Guard! Guard! Something's wrong! Help!" A few seconds later he heard the key in the lock. Doyle dropped back down beside the writhing Sonya. "Donae worry, lass. Help's on the way."   
  
She curled into the fetal position, moaning and whimpering. Tears leaked out of her eyes even though they were squeezed shut.   
  
The doors opened and Doyle looked up to see a guard and a man in a white coat with a stretcher. Pointing a gun at Doyle, the guard ordered, "Get back."   
  
Covered in Sonya's blood, Doyle scooted back to the other side of the cage. "Is she gonna be all right?"   
  
They lifted her up onto the stretcher, and put her tray of food on a shelf at the bottom of the stretcher. Then the man in the white coat wheeled her out of the cage.   
  
"Is she gonna be OK, man?" Doyle demanded.   
  
The guard shrugged. "I guess that's what they're going to try and find out."   
  
A wave of anger washed over Doyle. As the guard began to pull the bars shut, Doyle grabbed his tray of uneaten food and threw it at the man. The stew hit him square in the chest, and the ale soaked his shoes.   
  
The guard glared at Doyle. "You'd better watch it, mister. One more stunt like that, and I'll..."   
  
"What?" Doyle demanded, an animal look in his eyes. "Bring it on!"   
  
The guard rolled his eyes and then slid the metal door shut again, leaving Doyle completely alone in the almost dark.   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
England -- The Scooby Gang's Hotel   
  
Xander and Buffy lay on Buffy's bed in the girl's room, getting a few seconds of alone time. Joyce and Cordelia had gone in search of ice, and Giles was pondering over the letter Buffy had given him in the car. Neither Buffy nor Xander had ever seen Giles look so pale.   
  
"Do you think he's OK?" Buffy asked, resting her head on his chest. She could feel his heart beating beneath the fabric of his shirt.   
  
Xander re-settled his arms around her, enjoying the smell of her hair despite all the unpleasant things going through his head. "I want to know what he did while we were on that tour. He didn't look very good when we got back, and the letter just made it worse."   
  
"Do you think it's true?" Buffy asked. "The letter, I mean?"   
  
"I don't know." Xander shrugged.   
  
Buffy sighed deeply. "There's so much going on, and I don't know what to do about any of it -- Giles, the Council, the letter, Sonya and Doyle..."   
  
He squeezed her in a comforting hug. "I don't know what to do, either, Buffy, but you know what?"   
  
"What?" She raised up a little to look into his beautiful, brown eyes. The love in them always made her feel better.   
  
Xander smiled at her. "Somehow, we'll figure it all out. We always do. It's our M.O.... Things get as bad as they can possibly get, and then we work together to save the day, or the world, or both."   
  
"I hope you're right," Buffy said, nestling back down into the crook of his arm.   
  
"I know I am," Xander replied positively. "I have to be. Because if not..." He didn't finish that sentence aloud. Neither of them did. Instead, he just hugged Buffy tighter, and she hugged him back.   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
Sunnydale -- Angel's Apartment   
  
Faith and Angel lay next to each other on the bed, clothes scattered all around them. Beads of sweat from recent activities, and a thin, cotton sheet, covered their bodies. The silence was deafening.   
  
Angel wondered what to say. Were there any proper words for when you'd just had mind-blowing sex with a gorgeous girl you mostly hated? He sighed, starting to feel guilty. He should have stopped this. It never should have happened...   
  
Faith raised up on one elbow and looked at him from her inscrutable brown eyes. "So..."   
  
"So..." Angel replied, wondering if she was going to -- what had she said about unwanted advances the night before? -- bash his balls in.   
  
She grinned. "Wanna do it again?"   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
England -- The Scooby Gang's Hotel   
  
"I don't want to go!" Cordelia wailed, flopping down on Xander's cot without regard for her hair.   
  
From his chair by the table, Oz gave Cordelia a stern look. "You have to go. You're the only one of us who's seen those vampires." He seemed to have had a lot of practice dealing with her while they were alone together all day.   
  
Buffy, sitting on Oz's bed next to Xander, smiled at Cordelia. "The first time I walked into a den of vampires, I was scared, too, but I promise I'll protect you."   
  
"It'll be fine," Xander assured her. "All you have to do is give the pub the once over and see if you recognize anyone, while we ask the bartender about Spike."   
  
Cordelia sat back up, arching an eyebrow at Buffy and Xander. Apparently the bitch was back. "Fine! I'll go, but you guys really owe me one, and you'd better remember that." She stood and walked into the bathroom with her purse, and began fixing her hair and makeup.   
  
Buffy grinned at Xander. "Yeah, saving her life twice just isn't adequate pay back for going on a reconnaissance mission with us."   
  
Xander just shook his head. "She's Cordelia Chase. What can I say?" Shooting a glance toward the bathroom to make sure Cordelia wasn't in earshot, he leaned down and whispered to Buffy, "Did I tell you that when we were little me, Willow and my friend Jesse had this club? It was called the We Hate Cordelia Club. I was the treasurer."   
  
Buffy smothered a laugh, "Really? That's classic!" She paused long enough to control her giggles, and then added, "But, you know, she's really not *all* bad. I mean, I think there are reasons why she acts the way she does." Her mind flitted to the callous letter Mr. Chase had left for his daughter before jaunting off to Belgium, leaving Cordelia abandoned in England.   
  
"Tell me that *after* we get done with this mission," Xander challenged her. "If you can."   
  
Giles cleared his throat from where he sat at the table between Oz and Joyce. "If you two are finished with your private conversation..."   
  
"Yes, sir," Buffy answered guiltily, and she and Xander straightened up and began to pay attention. Cordelia stood in the doorway of the bathroom, listening and combing her hair simultaneously.   
  
"Now," Giles said, "you three are to go straight to the pub, and come straight back when you are finished. I've made you a map, and listed what stop you're to get off at when you take the Tube."   
  
Buffy nodded. "Right. We can handle it."   
  
"What are you guys going to do while we're gone?" Xander asked.   
  
"I'm manning the phone," Oz answered briefly. His eyes flickered from Xander to the phone sitting on the table next to him. He hadn't been more than three feet from it all day.   
  
"And I'll be here to keep Oz company," Joyce, the self-appointed moral officer of the group, added.   
  
Everyone looked to Giles. "I will be in the other room meeting with my defense counselor for the tribunal. We have much to go over before the proceedings start tomorrow."   
  
Buffy's brow furrowed as she looked at her Watcher. "But what about the letter? It said to trust no one. Do you really think you can trust this Wesley guy? He looked kind of clueless to me, but that could just be an act. He might be a spy."   
  
"I don't know," Giles admitted with a sigh. "Wesley seems trustworthy enough, if a little jumpy. I'm not sure what to think of that letter either. It could be a warning, or it could be a huge hoax. We shouldn't distrust too much until we have some proof."   
  
"So you keep saying," Buffy muttered, wondering how much more proof was needed than a kidnapping and a letter from the inside. But she didn't contradict him. She would wait and challenge him on this after they got back from the pub. Hopefully, either Spike would be there and have some lead, or Cordelia would recognize one of her attackers so Buffy could torture him until he admitted who hired him.   
  
There was a knock on the door. Giles stood up and opened it. Wesley came into the room. "Good evening all," he said, nodding to each person in the room. "Buffy, good to see you again. Rupert..." He paused when his eyes landed on Cordelia. "Oh... er... hello... I don't believe we've met..."   
  
Cordelia turned on her mega-watt smile, as she did any time a man, even a mildly attractive one, entered the room. "I'm Cordelia Chase."   
  
"Wesley..." Wesley stammered, tripping over his own tongue. "Wesley Price-Windham, I mean Wesley Windham-Price. Pleased to meet you..."   
  
Giles shook his head, and sighed. Then he said, "Wesley, let's go into the other room where we can talk more privately."   
  
"Oh... er... of course, Rupert." Wesley turned to follow Giles out the door, pausing at the threshold for one last glance at Cordelia. "Hope to see you... all... again soon."   
  
Buffy breathed a sigh of relief once Wesley was gone. She didn't want him to know what was going on, just in case he was a spy. She looked at her mother. "You know the cover story, in case Wesley notices we're gone?"   
  
Joyce nodded. "You got hungry. Went out for a late dinner." Joyce stood and gave Buffy a tight hug. "I know I always say this, but be careful sweetie."   
  
Returning the hug, Buffy said, "I always am, Mom."   
  
"I know," Joyce replied. "I just have to say it. It's a mother's job."   
  
They shared a quick smile of understanding, and then Buffy turned to Cordelia and Xander. "Everybody ready?"   
  
"Yeah..." Cordelia agreed, putting her comb back in her purse.   
  
"Got your weapons?" Buffy asked, double checking that she had her two knives and several stakes scattered about her person, especially in the pockets of her denim jacket.   
  
"Check," Xander replied, patting the pockets of his leather jacket. Cordelia stuffed a stake in her purse, though Buffy didn't know what Cordelia would do with it.   
  
"All right," Buffy said. "Let's go." She let Xander and Cordelia precede her out the door. She paused by Oz's chair. "We're going to get a lead if I have to tear that pub down brick by brick."   
  
Oz nodded. "I hope so."   
  
She flashed what she hoped was an encouraging smile at him, and then she followed Xander and Cordelia out of the hotel. 


	14. Chapter 13

In the Space of a Journey  
Chapter Thirteen   
  
England -- The Knight's Downfall   
  
"I *hate* the Tube!" Cordelia muttered as she followed Buffy and Xander up the stairs to street level. "It's all grimy and gross. And the weird people! I'd much rather pay for a cab!"   
  
Buffy turned and shot Cordelia a look. "On the way back, if you'd like to pay for the cab, we'd be happy to ride in it with you!"   
  
Cordelia glared right back at Buffy and announced, "If you think..."   
  
"Girls!" Xander interrupted her. "Not to stop this wonderful exchange you've got going on here, but I think that's it..."   
  
The girls stopped glaring at each other and followed the direction of Xander's pointing finger. Nestled between a grocers and a cigar store down the block was a building with a bright red door. The sputtering neon sign in the window read:   
  
The Kni ht's Downfa l.   
  
"All right," Buffy said, "here's how we're gonna do this thing. I'm going to go in first, check the place out. Then you two will follow me inside. Give me... I don't know... five minutes." She gave Xander a significant look, followed by a glance at Cordelia, meaning that he was to take care of her. Xander nodded to indicate his understanding.   
  
"Fine, whatever," Cordelia agreed. "I really don't want to be seen in there any longer than I have to, so let's get this over with."   
  
"Look, Cordelia," Buffy snapped, finally losing her temper with the spoiled princess. "You may not care about Sonya or Doyle, but their lives ride on this. If we don't get a lead, we'll never be able to rescue them. As much as I hate to admit it, you and an ornery English vampire are our two best hopes. So, why don't you just shut up and do your job?"   
  
Instead of the retort Buffy expected, Cordelia got very quiet. "After you, Buffy," she said, gesturing at the door to the pub.   
  
Buffy gave Cordelia one last confused look, and then went inside.   
  
Watching Buffy go without him, Xander felt a familiar pain in his heart. The twinge that always came when he watched Buffy go off into battle. Having been in her position once, he knew that it was inevitable, but he always wished he could protect her somehow. Xander sighed. First and foremost, Buffy was the Slayer. He loved her, and he would support and help in anyway he could, for her, for himself, and for all those that they could help. Right now, Sonya and Doyle. A soft voice next to him broke his train of thought.   
  
"Do you think Doyle and Sonya will be all right?" Cordelia tucked a strand of shiny, straight brown hair behind her ear and looked at him with what almost appeared to be worry in her eyes.   
  
Xander took a double take, and then answered, "Yeah, I think so. We'll find them."   
  
"What makes you so sure?"   
  
"Because any other alternative is unthinkable." Xander glanced down at his watch, and then said, "Ready?"   
  
"As I'll ever be." Cordelia squared her shoulders and then followed him into the pub.   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
The door slammed behind her as Buffy stepped into the pub. Everyone in the small room stared at her. It took her eyes a moment to adjust to the dimness and the smoke-filled haze. She walked over to the bar and perched gingerly on a stool covered with cracked green vinyl.   
  
The bartender, a butch-looking woman with a hefty figure and mousy brown hair came over to her. "What'll ya 'ave?" she asked as if she were doing Buffy a huge favor just by waiting on her.   
  
Buffy hesitated for a second before replying. "Um... I'm just here to meet a couple of friends. I'll wait until they get here to order."   
  
"Want some advice?" The bartender continued without waiting for a response. "Get out of 'ere as soon as you can. This ain't the place for a nice-lookin' girl like you."   
  
"Thanks," Buffy said, turning around on the stool, "but I can take care of myself."   
  
"Well, just don't say that I didn't warn you." The bartender moved down the line to take care of someone else.   
  
Buffy could feel the eyes of the pub patrons on her, but every time she looked around she couldn't catch any of them. A wave of nervousness overtook her. (You're the Slayer) Buffy told herself angrily. (You can do this! Lives depend on it, so quit with the shy crap!)   
  
She straightened her shoulders and stood up. Buffy did her best to scan every single person in the pub, but she didn't see the one she was looking for. Turning, she was about to ask the bartender if she knew any guys with peroxide blond hair when a hand clamped down on her shoulder.   
  
"Well, well, well. Lookie at what we have here, boys and girls. If it ain't the bloody Slayer slummin' it at the vampire bar."   
  
A wave of reaction to that comment went throughout the pub, and some of the patrons hurried to leave. Others stood and glared at Buffy.   
  
Buffy turned around to face the owner of that familiar accent. "Hi, Spike. It's been a long time."   
  
Spike looked about the same -- white/blond hair, red shirt, black coat. A wide grin split his pale face. "Not long enough by my way o' thinkin'," he replied. "Now, tell me, did little Buffy come all the way down here by her itty-bitty self?"   
  
"You underestimate me, Spike," Buffy told him. She heard the door open behind her, and Xander and Cordelia walked inside.   
  
"Don't talk down to me, girlie," Spike said. "I remember when you was nothin' but a scared, little bit of a thing..." He looked up and saw Xander looming protectively over Buffy. "Why, if it isn't Xander Harris, the Pseudo-Slayer of Sunnydale! And the society queen of Sunnydale High, or so that slut Willow used to say." Spike leered at Cordelia. "I sure would like a taste of you, sweet thing." Cordelia shrank back, and Spike added, "What, did you all decide to take a bloody field trip?"   
  
Buffy grabbed Spike by the collar of his shirt. "We came specifically to see you. I think you have some information on what happened to our friends. Sonya, and a psychic Irishman named Doyle. Some vamps who said they knew you kidnapped them from Cordelia's hotel." She tightened her grip on the collar, grabbing some skin as well. "Know anything about that?"   
  
The other vamps in the pub growled menacingly, but they didn't seem too willing to get involved. Buffy figured it was her reputation as the Slayer. Sure, she couldn't take all of them, but she'd get some of them. Apparently none of them were willing to risk the chance of dying, at least not yet. She knew they'd have to hurry if they wanted to get out of here alive and well.   
  
"See anything Cordelia?" she asked.   
  
The brunette squinted in the hazy pub. "Not yet."   
  
Spike chose that moment to grab Buffy's wrist and force her to let go of him. "I told them not to take the job, but the bloody fools insisted. An' I ain't seen 'em since."   
  
Buffy reached back and staggered Spike with a powerful punch to the jaw. "Who hired them? I'm not in the mood for cryptic messages. I've had enough of those today."   
  
"They aren't here, Buffy," Cordelia inserted. "I know I'd recognize them again, and they aren't here."   
  
Buffy glowered at Spike. "That means you are our only clue. So talk!" She prepared to punch him again.   
  
A couple of hefty vampires finally found their courage and walked over to the end of the bar. One growled at Buffy. "I think you and your friends should turn around and walk out of here."   
  
Xander pulled out a stake. "Watch it, buddy!"   
  
The vampires growled again, and Cordelia made a small, unidentifiable noise. Buffy could sense the situation deteriorating.   
  
"Look, Spike," she said suddenly, backing off a little bit, "we don't want any trouble."   
  
"Oh yeah?" Spike leered at her. "You're askin' for trouble just by comin' in here."   
  
"All we want in some information," Buffy replied calmly. "Tell us who hired your friends to pull that job at the Ritz, and we'll leave without a fuss. I'll admit that I'd like nothing better than to rid London of scum like you, but right now I've got more important things on my mind. Does anybody here *really* want to fight the Slayer? I might not be able to take you all, but I can take a good number of you before I go down."   
  
Catching on to her plan, Xander added, "And she's got backup..."   
  
"Yeah!" Cordelia added, pulling her stake out of her purse. "So you guys had just better..." Xander put his hand on her arm to stop her before she said anything more.   
  
The vampire growls in the background settled down, as if they were thinking about what Buffy and the others had said. Buffy settled her eyes on Spike.   
  
"What do you think, Spike? Wanna talk? Tell me what I want to know, and I'll leave. You know I'll keep my word..." Buffy held her breath as she waited for him to decide.   
  
Suddenly, Spike grinned. "He was a tall bloke, wore glasses, and tweed. Lots and lots of tweed. He knew an awful lot about us for someone without the proper connections, if you know what I mean."   
  
Buffy's eyes narrowed. "What are you saying, Spike. Stop beating around the bush!"   
  
"He hand picked us," Spike said. "The five of us, but I refused to take the bait. Don't work for humans, says I. But he knew just what to offer us that would be tempting. The others fell for it, but not me. He had to have inside information, and there's only one organization in these parts that keeps records on vampires."   
  
"The Council," Buffy breathed.   
  
"If I were you, I'd be checkin' out those bloke that are supposed to be Watchin' you, Slayer." Spike leveled a serious gaze on her. "Not that I care about you overmuch, or your pals, but I'd rather have a Slayer I know that some new one I don't know." That finished, Spike turned away and banged his hands down on the bar. "Linda, me love, bring me a pint of the good stuff." He turned back to Buffy. "And you three, get the bloody hell outta here, or..."   
  
"Or what?" Buffy waved her stake at him. But after a second she turned and followed Xander and Cordelia outside.   
  
They had barely gotten a foot away from the door when Cordelia asked, "What does that mean? Are Sonya and Doyle at that mansion in the country... what did you call it... the Compound?"   
  
Buffy was pale, but calm. "If the Council has them, we're getting them back!"   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
Sunnydale -- Angel's Apartment   
  
It was mid afternoon the next time Angel woke up. He lay in bed with his eyes closed, for some reason completely lethargic and unwilling to move. He was warm and somehow happy, but sore all over. Finally, he decided enough was enough, and he opened his eyes and sat up. As soon as he did that, he realized it was a mistake. A rushing pain pounded through his head, and his stomach started to churn.   
  
If he could have formed words, Angel would have asked what was going on. He didn't have any bodily fluids, so how could he vomit? Perhaps it was his body reacting to something that it remembered from a long time ago, or maybe it was just a natural reaction to all the tequila, but Angel didn't even have time to get to the bathroom before the dry heaves started. Luckily, because of the lack of fluid in a vampire body, there was no actual vomit. After a few minutes of heaving, Angel sank back onto the pillows, exhausted. The pain in his head ebbed a little, and he could think again. The first thing he thought about was what he'd done the night before to cause all this agony.   
  
The memories were fuzzy. Angel followed the fuzziness back, trying to figure out where it all started. Faith... a bar... WAY too much tequila... no one at the motel... and then...   
  
"We had sex!" Angel burst out as the memories came back a little more. "Three times..."   
  
He turned and looked, but the bed next to him was empty. All Faith's clothes were gone from the bed and the floor where they'd landed in a the frenzy of the night before, and Angel's better-than-human hearing told him that she wasn't in another room.   
  
"We had sex, and she walked out," Angel told himself. He wondered why she'd done that. (Maybe Faith does this all the time... Or perhaps she was embarrassed... Or she's regretting having a one night stand with a vampire with every fiber of her being...)   
  
The last choice sounded very plausible to Angel, based on what he knew of Faith and the way she and her teammates had responded to him so negatively from the first moment they'd met him. As the waves of guilt began to wash over him, Angel wondered what would happen when he saw her again, and he began to dread the nightly meeting at the condo...   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
England -- Scooby Gang's Hotel   
  
"So... now that you've heard it all, what do you think?" Giles sat back in his chair and waited, his eyes on Wesley. Giles had figured he had nothing to lose by telling Wesley everything, or almost everything, whether the younger Watcher was a spy or not. The Council already knew about Sonya, Xander and Buffy because he'd told them himself. And Faith was bound to have reported in and let them know about Angel. Giles had decided that he didn't think Wesley was a spy. The lad was too nervous and too worried about the case. If he'd been in on whatever was going on, Giles was more and more sure Wesley would have been calm and confident because he would have known he was going to lose.   
  
Tugging on his collar, Wesley said, "Er... well... to be honest..."   
  
"You think we haven't got a prayer," Giles supplied.   
  
"Well, yes," Wesley answered bluntly. "You blatantly lied to the Council not just once but for months, you somehow stole a spell from the Compound itself and then took it upon yourself to Choose the next Slayer... Even the most liberal among us will have a hard time getting past that."   
  
Giles sighed. "I know, but I had hoped, well, that someone might think about how it was for me. You know what was going on before I left England. That whole thing with Barrows..."   
  
"It got voted down," Wesley reminded him.   
  
"True," Giles admitted, "but the undercurrents were still around. I was afraid for Sonya's life."   
  
Wesley stopped fidgeting for a minute, and gave Giles a close look. "I believe you, Rupert. I even sympathize. But I doubt many others will. Because besides breaking traditions laid down from the dawn of the Council and all the lies, you are also guilty of loving the Slayer too much. You know a Watcher is not supposed to get emotionally involved, at least not to this extent. What would you have done on her eighteenth birthday when it was time for..."   
  
"And that," Giles snapped, "is the most insane rule that the Council has ever come up with! Don't get emotionally involved with the Slayer! Hah! The thing is that most of the upper echelons of the Council have never be the Watcher of a Slayer. They don't know what it is like to be with her day in and day out, training her and helping her... Emotional involvement is unavoidable, unless you are some kind of automaton!"   
  
"Er... well...," Wesley hesitated. "It makes sense in theory. A Watcher who is too attached to the Slayer will misstep trying to protect her from the darkness she must face every single day..."   
  
"Yes, I took the class," Giles replied harshly. "It has nothing to do with reality. Human beings have emotions. They get attached. And Slayers get attached, too. When Barrows has a Slayer, then he can talk to me about the justifications of that rule."   
  
Wesley began putting his things into his briefcase. "Yes, well, I suppose that theoretically, no one is qualified to judge you until they've been in your shoes, but, Rupert, tomorrow that's exactly what's going to happen. I do hope you don't plan on using the automaton speech as part of your defense."   
  
Giles snorted in laughter. It was either laugh or cry. He chose to laugh. "No, no, I'm not."   
  
Wesley looked at Giles over the rims of his glasses. "I heard you earlier telling Buffy to trust the Council. And yet you don't seem to, either now or then..."   
  
"Yes..." Giles hesitated, and then decided to explain. "I know the Council will not work for me, but I hope that it might still work for her. She is an excellent Slayer, and I want her to have all the resources possible." He didn't add that if he found out that if suspicions about the Council's involvement in Sonya and Doyle's kidnapping became reality that he would have to rethink his position on that.   
  
Both men stood, and Giles extended a hand. Wesley shook it with a surprisingly firm grip. "Thank you for your work here, Wesley," Giles said. "I don't know why you got stuck with this job, but you seem to be giving it your all despite the near certainty that you are going to lose. I appreciate that."   
  
"I took Barrows' niece out on a date, and we didn't hit it off," Wesley said. "Or, rather, I should say that I didn't hit it off, but she did. Apparently she was just crushed when she told her uncle about it. That's why I got this assignment."   
  
He couldn't help it. Giles had to laugh. "Next time, I suppose you'll think twice before taking out a member of the family of someone in the Proconsul's advisory circle."   
  
"Yes, quite," Wesley replied. "I'll see you tomorrow morning, half an hour early so we can go over things one more time, correct?"   
  
Giles nodded, and walked Wesley to the door. "Yes." He walked outside with the younger man, pausing by the door to the boys' room. "See you then."   
  
Wesley was just turning to leave when the elevator burst open and Buffy, Xander and Cordelia came running full tilt towards them.   
  
"Giles!" Buffy said quickly. "We've got to talk."   
  
"Yes, I'm done with my meeting," Giles replied, noticing the flush in her cheeks. He hoped the excitement on her face meant she'd found a new lead. Hopefully one that did not have anything to do with the Council. He turned to Wesley. "Good night."   
  
"Er... good night," Wesley replied, taking his eyes off Cordelia. Then he turned and walked down the hall.   
  
They waited until they saw him get on the elevator, and then they went into the boys' room where Joyce and Oz were waiting.   
  
Giles looked at Buffy seriously. "Now, tell me..."   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
Sunnydale -- Amy's House   
  
The house was quiet. Her dad wasn't home from work yet, and wouldn't be for a while. The only sound was the ticking of the grandfather clock in the hallway and the chirping of birds in the large oak tree outside the kitchen window.   
  
Normally the kitchen was one of Amy's favorite rooms in the house. It was decorated in a bright, cheerful yellow color, and the afternoon sun shining in the windows made it seem warm and golden in there. But today no paint on the wall or sunshine in the window could brighten Amy's mood.   
  
The smell of baking chocolate wafted towards her, and Amy stood up and moved to the oven. She peeked in and saw her double chocolate brownies were done. She reached in with a hot pad and pulled them out.   
  
"Sunshine might not be enough," she muttered to herself, "but brownies help anytime."   
  
She set the pan on the stovetop, and cut a small square while they were still hot. That was how she liked them best. The warm, soft insides melted gooily in her mouth, almost, but not quite, burning her tongue. When she was finished with the brownie, Amy finally felt ready to face the disappointment of her day.   
  
She had been stood up. She'd gone to the Rose Cup at the appointed time, and Terrance had been nowhere to be found. No message, no phone call, no Terrance, no nothing. After waiting an interminably long half an hour, she'd come home. At first she'd been depressed. Things had been going so well, and Terrance was the first guy she'd liked since Raphael in Europe. And Terrance seemed like a much more stable, and yet still hauntingly good looking and intrinsically interesting, catch than the flighty, fiery Rafe had been. But now Terrance was showing his careless side.   
  
Amy frowned. There was always the possibility that he'd been held up, or even hurt. He did go in for a dangerous line of work. Amy sighed. After Rafe and the carousing he'd done behind her back until she'd found out, Amy had a hard time believing excuses. She hoped Terrance would have a really good one.   
  
The peal of the doorbell interrupted her thoughts, and Amy slowly walked down the hall to the front door. She pulled it back and was surprised to see the object of her thoughts standing there.   
  
"Terrance," she said coolly. "I didn't expect to see you until tonight. At work."   
  
"Amy, I must apologize for not meeting you this morning as we planned," Terrance said quickly.   
  
"I'm sure you're sorry," Amy replied, still not opening the door to let him inside. "Got held up, did you?"   
  
Terrance grimaced. "It was Faith. She took the night off last night, and apparently got out of her gourd on tequila and who knows what else. She didn't get back to the motel until almost eleven this morning." He paused and looked at her with his endearing smile. "Can I come in and tell you the rest of the story, please?"   
  
Amy relented, a little bit. She stepped back and let him in the house. He walked in and sniffed the air. "Brownies! My favorite." Before she could say anything, he was following his nose down the hall and into the kitchen. He stopped directly in front of the small, square, chocolate-filled pan. "Can I have one?"   
  
"Sure, why not?" Amy replied. She sat down at the table and watched him delve with relish into the brownie he generously cut. "So..." she prodded after a second. "The rest of the story?"   
  
Wiping a bit of brownie from his lips, Terrance sat down across from her at the table. "It's Faith. She's a gifted strategist, but she's not really fit for leadership, if you ask me. She gave us all the night off on the spur of the moment, and then went and got drunk out of her skull... What kind of example is that? Rio, Nicole and I didn't really want the night off, so we continued patrolling. Almost caught one of those feral vampires, too, but it slipped out of Rio's energy net. We tried to contact her, but her radio wasn't working, or something. In my opinion, that's extremely irresponsible. Then we spent the whole morning out looking for her, afraid she was dead or who knows what! And then when she got to the motel, she was barking orders up and down, like we had no brains. She didn't even ask us for our report. Instead she sent us out to patrol again -- in the daylight, no less. I don't know what she is thinking of."   
  
Amy felt a little sympathy for him. She was starting to believe him. She knew what it was like to work under a demanding leader, but she supposed she was lucky that Jenny was very competent at all levels of her job.   
  
Abruptly, Terrance leaned across the table and kissed her. She was stunned for a moment, but then she was kissing him back. She could taste the chocolate on his lips. When he pulled back, they were both smiling.   
  
"I've been wanting to do that ever since I met you," Terrance admitted with a big grin. "So... do you forgive me for standing you up for breakfast?"   
  
"Well, I guess so," Amy decided. "But never do it again."   
  
"I won't," Terrance promised, still smiling. "So... want to come patrolling with me? It shouldn't be dangerous in the daylight."   
  
"Sure," Amy replied, "why not?"   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
England -- The Cell   
  
Doyle sat in the darkness for a long time. After the emotional overload of earlier, he barely had the strength to move. The dried blood on his clothes had begun to crust over, but he just sat there in the corner, trying to keep his eyes off the puddle of old blood on the floor that showed up as a slick, dark spot in the dim light from the waning bulb overhead.   
  
Then the metal door slid open. Doyle looked up, hoping they were bringing Sonya back, that her healing abilities had transcended even that horrible ordeal. Instead it was the guard, and Marcus. A blonde woman was standing behind them. She stared at him. Doyle looked away.   
  
The guard and Marcus stepped into the cell. The guard had a mop and two buckets of water. He set one bucket next to the wall, and the other near the puddle.   
  
"Don't try anything," Marcus warned, giving Doyle a pleading look. "If you do, you'll never have a chance to get cleaned up."   
  
"Where is she?" Doyle asked harshly. "What have ye done we' Sonya?"   
  
"She's being taken care of," Marcus answered simply. "That's all you need to know." Next to the bucket of water on the floor, he set a towel, a washcloth, a bar of soap and some clean clothes. The guard quickly finished mopping, and took the other bucket out of the cell.   
  
Suddenly, Doyle shot to his feet and advanced on Marcus. "Is she alive or dead! Tell me, or I'll..."   
  
"You do what?" Marcus asked, taking a step back. "One more move, and the guard will hit the shock button."   
  
"Wi' you in here, too?" Doyle demanded, but he didn't move closer. "Pretty heartless o' him!"   
  
"Sonya is recovering well from the tiger whiskers she ingested. It is quite impressive, actually. Ingesting ground up tiger whiskers is like ingesting broken glass."   
  
Doyle looked at the blonde woman in shock, giving Marcus the chance to get out of the cell. He slammed the barred door shut. Doyle took a step forward to the woman, holding out a hand. "Why? Why are ye doin' this to her? To us?"   
  
"Rest in the fact that she's fine, for now," the woman replied, and then turned away.   
  
As the metal door slammed shut and locked, Doyle heard the lady and Marcus talking.   
  
"Ms. Post! You shouldn't have told him that," Marcus objected loudly.   
  
"It calmed him down enough for you to get out of there, didn't it?" she replied in a cold voice. "Never question me again, Marcus. I have reasons for all that I do, and you could never understand them..."   
  
The voices fades away, and Doyle sighed. At least he knew Sonya was alive, for now. But the question still remained. Why would the Council want to torture her, or either of them for that matter? If they thought Doyle and Sonya were in the way, why hadn't they just killed them straight out? Doyle sighed deeply, and walked over to the soap and water. At least he would be able to get clean. That was something.   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
Sunnydale -- Jenny's Apartment   
  
The good thing about vacations, Jenny decided, was that she could do whatever she wanted during the day. That day, she'd slept in, cooked a luscious brunch for herself and her cat, Sam, and then luxuriated in a warm bubble bath. By mid afternoon, she wrapped herself in a thick, cotton robe and settled down to read her newspaper.   
  
Sam jumped up next to her on the red brocade sofa. Jenny grazed the cat's head with her fingertips. "You think you just own this place, don't you...?"   
  
Her voice trailed off as her eyes landed on an article in the bottom right-hand corner of the front page. The headline read: Two killed by mysterious means. She continued reading, her eyes glued to the page. The article said that two teenagers, last seen leaving The Cellar in Calvin the night before, were found in the woods, lifeless husks. Their bodies were charred, blackened and somehow drained of all fluids, bones and organs, but the skin was only blackened and the clothes were intact. Theories abounded, the most popular being that they ingested a super-powered acid in the guise of the latest designer drug of choice, or some kind of spontaneous combustion. Both popular cover stories in Sunnydale. The two teens had been identified by the information in their wallets, strangely undisturbed.   
  
Jenny leaned back on the couch and sighed deeply. She knew this was more than it seemed. And she thought she'd heard about something like this before. She walked to the phone and dialed the now familiar number. Help was needed, and the only person she could turn to was the person she was most supposed to hate.   
  
"Angel," she said, as soon as he picked up the phone on his end. "Something's happened. It looks like there's got a Kun'gi demon loose in Sunnydale." 


	15. Chapter 14

In the Space of a Journey  
Chapter Fourteen   
  
Sunnydale -- The Condo   
  
Angel approached the condo with trepidation. He now knew better than to assume he would be the first one there, and he soon discovered the assumption was right. He was the last to arrive. He slipped in and paused in the hallway between the living room and the library to watch.   
  
Amy and Terrance were sitting on the couch, whispering to each other. Rio and Nicole were on the other side of the room. Angel thought he saw Rio snickering at Amy and Terrance, but he wasn't sure. Before he could make up his mind, Angel saw Faith. She and Jenny were by the window looking at the newspaper. A demonology book lay open on the small table next to them. Angel walked over and examined the drawing of the Kun'gi on the open page of the book.   
  
Jenny looked up at him seriously. "This new threat must take precedence over the feral vampires, don't you agree, Angel?" Before Angel could say anything, Jenny kept going. "Faith, here, is of the opinion that we should divide our forces, but a Kun'gi is serious. The feral vamps are easily taken out by any one of you, but the Kun'gi has a tack horn that can suck the life-force out of any living thing. And they're exceptionally strong. Angel, I don't know if even you could take it out by yourself."   
  
"Which is why we will go out in teams," Faith inserted. Angel looked at her, but she was staring at Jenny. Faith was in full command-mode. "But we have to contain both of these threats as soon as possible. They are both taking innocent lives! Who's to say which innocent lives are the ones to spare?"   
  
"Angel?" Jenny asked pointedly. "What do you think?"   
  
The vampire looked at Faith. She still wouldn't meet his eyes. She stared at the book while waiting to hear what he had to say.   
  
"I agree with Faith," Angel finally said.   
  
Jenny cocked an eyebrow at him. "Do you?" She looked from him to Faith meaningfully. "I wonder why..."   
  
For a second, Angel wondered what she was thinking, and if it were anything close to the truth. Then he went on with his explanation. "Because she's talking sense. We aren't just responsible for the worst demon running around town -- we're responsible for all of them, and for making sure they don't kill again."   
  
Picking up the newspaper, Jenny waved the Kun'gi article in front of his face. Then she flipped to page three, showing him an article about three more "wild dog" attacks. "Well, it doesn't look like we are doing a good job on either front." She looked pointedly at Angel and Faith. "I would suggest, if you two are dividing the forces again tonight, that you *don't* take off early."   
  
Her irritated speech was interrupted by the ringing of the phone. Jenny turned and walked toward the library where she could take it in private. "I'll get that. I'm expecting a call from England."   
  
"Anything I need to know?" Angel called as she walked away. "Or that I can help with?"   
  
"Luckily, no," Jenny replied. "This is something only I can do." Then she walked into the library and shut the door, only a little more loudly than necessary.   
  
Angel sighed and then turned to Faith, wondering how she would react to him now. "You left pretty..."   
  
"I'm going with Nicole tonight," Faith interrupted him. She finally met his eyes, and when she did, Angel didn't see anything remotely personal in them.   
  
"All right," Angel replied, "but why?"   
  
"Because it's better that way," Faith replied. "And she needs some pointers than only I can give her. You can patrol with Terrance."   
  
Angel had hoped patrolling with Faith would give them a much-needed chance to talk, but with this new all-business attitude, he couldn't figure out a way to bring up their post-dawn activities. And he felt a twinge of resentment that she didn't even seem to care enough to want to talk about it. "Fine!" he answered after a minute, "but Terrance and I will track the Kun'gi. You and Nicole can keep looking for the ferals."   
  
That order made Faith's fiery personality evident again, though not in the way he had hoped. She stood at her full height and put her hands on her hips. "And what gives you the right to..."   
  
It was Angel's turn to interrupt. "I am the strongest person on this team. Kun'gi demons are very powerful. We already know you and Nicole can handle ferals..."   
  
"Are you doubting my abilities?" Faith demanded angrily. "I'll have you know that I can..."   
  
"I'm sure you can," Angel retorted, "but the facts remain that vampires are stronger than humans, no matter how well trained the human." He shrugged. "It's the one benefit of the demon that lives inside me."   
  
Faith stared at him for a minute, but Angel didn't give way under her fierce gaze. Finally, Faith acquiesced. "All right, we'll track the ferals. But if we happen to run across that Kun'gi, don't think we won't challenge it." Then she turned around to tell her troops of the changes in plans, leaving Angel staring after her, more confused than before.   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
England -- The Scooby Gang's Hotel   
  
Giles looked around the empty hotel room. Satisfied that the others would be at breakfast for a few more minutes, he picked up the phone and dialed his home number.   
  
"Hello?"   
  
When he heard Jenny's voice, Giles breathed a sigh of relief. He wouldn't have to stall anyone, or make anything up. He said, "It's me."   
  
"Good. I thought it would be. How are things going over there?"   
  
Giles could hear the underlying tension in her voice. He wondered vaguely if Angel and Faith were still not getting along, and if that were the cause of her tension, but he had more important things to address. "Are you done with the spell?"   
  
"Very close, but not quite done," Jenny replied briskly. "Amy and I got a good start on it last night, but we had to make sure Rio went out on patrol. And we'll have to do that again tonight."   
  
"True," Giles agreed. "We don't know how far we can trust Faith and her squad. And my trust in the upper echelons of the Council is waning as well."   
  
"I knew you had suspicions before," Jenny said, worry overlaying the tension in her tone. "Has something new happened to confirm them besides the kidnapping?"   
  
Quickly, Giles explained about the note Buffy had received, and the information she'd gotten from Spike. "All the information points to the Council. And so, as much as I am loath to admit complete corruption, something untoward is going on at the Compound. I hope to discern how much of the Council is involved, but at this point I can't risk anyone associated with the Council."   
  
"That's what you have us for," Jenny said, trying for a bright tone. On a more serious note, she added, "Have you told Buffy and the others yet?"   
  
"No." Giles shook his head even though she couldn't see him on the other end of the line. "I don't want to worry them. They have enough to worry about, and this will only make it worse."   
  
"But you need them to pull this off..."   
  
"I know, and I will tell them soon. When the spell is ready, and we can commence the rescue operation."   
  
Jenny sighed. "Whatever you think is best. Amy and I should get it done tonight, as long as we can get Rio out of the way. I'm sure he will want to go patrolling, I just don't know if Faith will agree or not."   
  
"Did you have any thoughts on the other thing?" Giles asked. "The tribunal starts tomorrow, so I haven't had a chance to look into it. And most of my contacts are too old to do much good, as well as being connected to the Council themselves..."   
  
"I see," Jenny agreed. "Well, you are definitely right. For this to work, Oz's broken leg will have to be healed. Healing spells are just so temperamental, and they take a lot out of both healer and the healed. A healing spell for his leg could leave him ill for days, which wouldn't suit your purposes at all."   
  
"But if the healing were done in conjunction with the other spell..." Giles suggested.   
  
"That was my conclusion as well," Jenny agreed. "I contacted some people I know in the UK over the Internet, and I've got a name and phone number for you. His practice is pretty low profile, so you shouldn't have to worry about the Council hearing."   
  
Giles copied down the information she gave him, and then stuck the scrap of paper in his wallet. "Thank you. I will call him as soon as I can."   
  
"And I will call you at the hotel when I have the derivation you need," Jenny replied.   
  
"Good luck," Giles said, and then, hearing the others coming down the hall, he quickly said, "I will talk to you tomorrow." And they both hung up. Neither heard the soft click of a third party hanging up as well.   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
Sunnydale -- The Condo   
  
When the library door opened, Amy watched Jenny come out and tried to read the inscrutable look on her face.   
  
"What do you think is going on with her?" Terrance asked, stretching out comfortably on the couch and slinging an arm around Amy's shoulders.   
  
Amy shrugged. "I don't know. She looks tense." She watched Jenny look in the living room, and then, realizing that Amy and Terrance were the only two in there, Jenny left as well. "I guess she has to talk to Angel and Faith about that phone call she just got."   
  
"Maybe so." Terrance paused for a minute, and then said, "So, did you hear about this new demon loose in Sunnydale? They're saying it's a Kun'gi."   
  
"No, I've never heard of that," Amy answered, looking to Terrance to fill her in.   
  
He did, seemingly glad for the chance to explain. "They're a really vicious breed of demon. They have this tack horn in the middle of their foreheads, and they use it to drain the life force out of any living thing. Apparently they're no slouch in the fighting department either. I'm quite looking forward to tonight, actually."   
  
Amy had to smile at Terrance's exuberance. He'd been that way all day, and it looked good on him. (Who am I kidding?) she asked herself wryly. (Sackcloth and ashes would look good on him!)   
  
As if he could gauge her thoughts from the expression on her face, Terrance suddenly sat up and brought his lips down to hers. Amy sighed into the kiss -- their first real kiss, even though they'd spent most of the past two days together. He deepened the kiss, and she acquiesced willingly. His strong arms pulled her closer. Amy buried her fingers in his short hair, not thinking about how such a display, especially when anyone could walk in see them, was not something she usually did. Instead, she lost herself in the moment, and his enthralling kiss.   
  
A wave of dizziness washed over her, and she held on to him tighter. The thought (I thought this kind of thing only happened in fiction) flittered through her mind, but coherent thought was soon gone again. Then Terrance moved his hand under her top and touched the bare skin of her stomach. Shocked, Amy jerked back out of his arms. He looked at her in confusion.   
  
"I... I'm sorry," Amy stammered. "I didn't mean to lead you on. I just... that's just... not me. I don't go so fast..." She felt exposed under his odd stare.   
  
Then, suddenly, his strange look melted away and the Terrance she'd come to know was smiling back at her. "I'm sorry, Amy. It was just... rather... er... the heat of the moment?"   
  
"Heat, yes, good excuse," Amy replied, feeling the blush in her cheeks even now.   
  
The sound of someone clearing their throat in the hallway made the amorous teens look up to see Nicole frowning at them. "Terrance," she said sharply, "I must speak with you. Now."   
  
Terrance smiled at Amy apologetically. "I'm sorry, but I have to..."   
  
"I understand," Amy replied. "Go on."   
  
"I'll see you later? Or tomorrow?"   
  
"Yeah," Amy agreed, returning his smile. "Call me." She sat back on the couch and watched Terrance go, the smile still lingering on her lips.   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
By the time Terrance followed Nicole to the landing between the first and second floors, where they were out of earshot from both those upstairs and those downstairs, the besotted smile had left his face and in its place was a business-like expression.   
  
"What's wrong, Nicole, that you had to drag me away?" He kept his voice low, just as a precaution. He'd been taught well.   
  
As had Nicole, who whispered back, "Drag you away from your torrid affair down there? Well, don't worry, I wouldn't have if it weren't important."   
  
"What I do with Amy is..."   
  
"I do not care about that!" Nicole replied harshly. "That is for you to determine. What I do care about is that Angel and Faith have decided to split up the teams tonight, and Ms. Calendar is insisting that Rio patrol as well."   
  
Terrance thought about that for a second. "Well, I can see why you don't like that, but things are still workable. And it will help you to have Rio along... I assume that you, Rio and Faith will be together?"   
  
"Yes," Nicole affirmed. "You know our exalted leader so well."   
  
"Well, don't worry," Terrance told her. "Faith may be a potential Slayer, but when we get back to England and tell the Council how she acted, someone more... trustworthy... will be appointed to lead the team, I'm sure."   
  
Nicole looked at Terrance with narrowed eyes. "You mean yourself."   
  
Terrance shrugged. "We won't know until it happens, Nicole. Just play nice with the necrophiliac until this assignment is over. You don't want to jeopardize your position. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got to prepare to patrol with our favorite pet vampire."   
  
"What about...?" Nicole didn't finish her sentence, but Terrance knew just what she meant.   
  
"It's taken care of." With that he walked upstairs to find his new patrolling partner. Nicole followed a few steps behind.   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
England -- The Scooby Gang's Hotel   
  
Click. Click. Click. Click.   
  
Oz sighed, trying yet again to get comfortable in his chair.   
  
Click. Click. Click. Click.   
  
Oz glanced at Cordelia. She held the remote control in her hand and continued to flip through the channels at an insane rate. The TV screen flickered as sitcoms, infomercials, weather reports and soap operas flashed by.   
  
"Can you even see what's on the channels when you're flipping through them so fast?" Oz asked.   
  
Cordelia shrugged. "I can see enough."   
  
Click. Click. Click. Click.   
  
Oz looked back at the television, watching with a hint of annoyance in his blue eyes as the channels whizzed by at a slightly alarming rate. His eyes narrowed as he caught sight of something familiar before Cordelia's thumb pressed down yet again on the channel button and the stations continued to blur together. "Stop!" he cried belatedly. "Go back. I thought I saw something good."   
  
"What channel?" Cordelia asked, slanting her gaze over to him.   
  
"MTV, I think."   
  
Cordelia shrugged her slender shoulders. "I've gone too far. We're already over half way through the numbers. It'll be faster to keep going forward, work my way back around to the beginning again."   
  
Oz groaned and sunk down into his chair. A whole afternoon alone with Cordelia Chase was enough to strain even his easy-going nature. And this was the second one he'd had to endure.   
  
Cordelia resisted a smile at his sulking countenance. (Men are such babies!) she mused, turning her gaze back to the television.   
  
Click. Click. Click. Click.   
  
"Here we go... MTV," Cordelia announced with a triumphant grin as she finally reached the elusive TV station. Moving her thumb to another area of the remote, she turned up the volume.   
  
/...because I want it that way. You are my fire. My one desire.../   
  
The Backstreet Boys were dancing on the screen, crooning to a group of awe-struck young girls. Cordelia looked over at Oz and raised one delicate eyebrow. "This was what you wanted to watch? I never took you for a Backstreet Boys fan, Oz."   
  
Oz glared at her. "I am *not* a Backstreet Boys fan!"   
  
Cordelia's grin grew wider at Oz's obvious discomfort. "Of course, you're not."   
  
"Really, I'm not!" he sputtered. "I just thought that... um... well... that there was actually a good band playing."   
  
"Like who?"   
  
Suddenly put on the spot, Oz blurted out, "Um... Four Star Mary!"   
  
Cordelia rolled her eyes. "Uh huh, because Four Star Mary looks and sounds *so* much like the Backstreet Boys," she replied sarcastically.   
  
Oz frowned and slouched down in his seat, not even bothering to respond. Cordelia watched him for a moment, a mischievous sparkle in her eyes. Then she turned back to the TV and frowned, giving a melodramatic sigh as the band continued to shimmy and shake their way across the television screen. "You know, I don't really like the Backstreet Boys all that much. I mean, they're okay, but N'Sync is much better. They have stronger harmony lines, better rhythm, and they're way cuter." She watched Oz squirm in his seat for a second before adding, "Though neither of them can even compare to 98 degrees. Now *there's* a band!"   
  
Oz's eyes shot up to meet hers, disbelief filling them. "What?!?! How can you even possibly think that N'Sync is better than the Backstreet Boys? N'Sync is just an over-rated bunch of copy cats! And don't even get me started on 98..." he paused in his diatribe, looking over at Cordelia's barely suppressed laughter. "I walked right into that one, didn't I?"   
  
Finally, Cordelia couldn't hold back any longer. Between peals of laughter, she gasped out, "Yeah, you sure did!"   
  
Oz tried to keep a stern, disapproving look on his face, but he couldn't manage it. Soon, he was laughing right along with Cordelia Chase, something he'd never thought he'd see happen in his life. It was an odd experience, but surprisingly not a bad one.   
  
Cordelia finally managed to regain control of wits and took a few deep breaths to calm down. Then, meeting Oz's gaze briefly, she gave him a small smile and said, "You know, you're not half bad to be around, Oz."   
  
Oz shrugged. "I could say the same thing about you."   
  
Cordelia shrugged, flipping her long, brown hair over her shoulder. "Well, duh!" she exclaimed with a grin. "But if you ever tell me that you also like to listen to Brittany Spears in your spare time, then I don't know you, got it?"   
  
Oz smiled. "Got it. I guess that means I'll have to throw out my single of 'Genie in a Bottle' though. What a shame. I kinda liked that song."   
  
Cordelia frowned, raising up a hand. "Hey, that's not a Brittany Spears song, that's by Christina Ag..." She trailed off, slowly realizing what she'd just said. Looking up at Oz, she sighed. "I fell right into that trap, didn't I?"   
  
Oz smiled. "Yup."   
  
Cordelia grinned at him and then turned back around in her seat. As she began to flip through the channels at a slightly slower rate this time, Oz sat back in his chair. A comfortable silence now rested between them. After a moment, Cordelia looked over her shoulder at him and grinned, flipping the television off. "So," she began, standing up slowly and stretching out the kinks in her muscles that came from sitting in front of the TV for too long before walking over to stand next to Oz. "Have you ever played Truth or Dare?"   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
Sunnydale -- The Streets   
  
When he saw the familiar neon sign and rickety building up ahead, Angel felt a surge of relief. It had taken them long enough to get here. Terrance had insisted on checking out each and every bit of underbrush in each and every graveyard and park they passed. Of course, on one hand, Angel could admire the kid's thoroughness, but what annoyed Angel was that they were on Kun'gi patrol, not feral patrol, and there was only one place in town where they might be able to get a lead on Sunnydale's newest threat.   
  
"Why are we here?" Terrance demanded when Angel moved to open the door of the unassuming building.   
  
"We're looking for a lead on the Kun'gi," Angel replied patiently. He had to be careful that patient didn't slip into patronizing. He was very tempted. Terrance and his by-the-book methods were quickly becoming more tiresome than anything Faith had done.   
  
"Yes, I know," Terrance replied with a scowl. "But do you really think we'll find it in a bar? A Kun'gi won't blend in with humans, unless it's Halloween, so it wouldn't be in here, making this whole exercise rather pointless..."   
  
Stepping slightly away from the door, Angel explained, "This place is owned by Willy the Snitch. He caters to a rather demonic crowd. If the Kun'gi isn't here in the back room, then Willy's probably heard about it. Trust me, Willy has his ear on the pulse of the demonic community -- so to speak. This is our best chance." Then Angel turned and walked inside the bar. Terrance followed, but obviously very reluctantly.   
  
Ignoring the commando for the moment, Angel strode confidently into the building and stopped across the bar from Willy. "Hello."   
  
Willy looked up, a hint of panic in his weasely eyes. "Hey, Angel... It's been awhile. How's it handgun'?" He lowered his squeaky voice. "You ain't... you ain't gonna rough me up again, is ya? Because I'm tellin' the truth when I say I ain't dealin' in stolen blood no more. No more stolen blood for Willy, I swear Angel!"   
  
"I'm not here about blood this time, Willy," Angel replied, grabbing the shorter man's shirt by the collar and effectively stopping his monologue. He accentuated his next words with a few rough shakes, making Willy feel slightly nauseous. "We're looking for someone. And something tells me you're gonna know something useful."   
  
The barkeep looked around, but the last customer had just skedaddled out the door. He was alone with the white hats, which meant time to spill his guts. "Who ya lookin' for, Angel?"   
  
"A Kun'gi demon," Angel replied, letting go of Willy's shirt and letting the guy stand on his own two feet. "Big brute of a demon, kind of green, a little slimy and it has a tack horn in the middle of its forehead that can drain the life-force out of any living thing. It's already killed some people in town. Know anything about it?"   
  
"D...d...drain life force?" Willy stammered, his eyes going wide. "Uh, yeah, I know the guy. He stopped in here last night. Said he was stayin' in the industrial part of town. But he didn't seem vicious..."   
  
"Probably because he'd already eaten," Angel replied, assuming that the point of draining life force was so the demon could feed, but he didn't know for sure. The writer of the demonology book hadn't known for sure. Kun'gi were rare demons.   
  
Willy looked pale, but he kept a hold of himself. "That all, Angel, cuz I've got a business to run..."   
  
Angel gave Willy a dark look, and then turned and headed out of the bar. Terrance followed.   
  
"You see?" Angel said once they'd gotten out the door. "Now we have an area to search. It must've set down a lair in one of the abandoned factories..."   
  
"How do you know you can trust that little slime?" Terrance asked incredulously. "Personally, I wouldn't trust anything that came out of his mouth. He just wants to save his own sorry little arse."   
  
Angel gave Terrance a cold smile. "Willy knows what happens when he lies to me. He doesn't do it anymore."   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
England -- The Compound   
  
The second time they pulled up to the Compound, it looked much less imposing to Buffy. Or, it still looked imposing, but in a different way now that she knew what to expect. It was no longer the huge building and extensive grounds that intimidated her. Now she was worried about Sonya.   
  
Leaning up toward the front seat, Buffy asked, "Are you *sure* you guys know what to do?"   
  
Joyce looked back and gave her daughter a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, Xander and I are ready to do our part."   
  
"I still wish I could do it," Buffy muttered, sitting back as Giles parked the car.   
  
Xander reached over and took her hand. "I know you do, but there isn't any other way. You and Giles will be the ones in the spotlight, not us -- especially not your mom."   
  
Turning off the motor, Giles said, "They will have ample opportunity to slip away during the proceedings. And if they find a lead as to where Sonya and Doyle are being kept, if the Council really is behind this and Spike wasn't making things up to get rid of you, then we will be prepared to do something."   
  
"But we still don't have a plan for getting them back if we find them," Buffy protested.   
  
Giles met her eyes seriously. "I have a plan, Buffy, and I will tell you about it when and if we need to utilize it. But right now, I need the three of you not to know, just in case you are asked."   
  
Realizing that Giles wasn't taking this as lightly as she'd thought, Buffy nodded. "All right, Giles. I trust you."   
  
"Thank you, Buffy," Giles replied, a spark of emotion in his eyes. "That means a lot."   
  
"Hey, G-Man!" Xander broke in on the moment. "We all trust you. You're the respectable, dutiful, honorable Watcher. Why would anyone not trust you? Except maybe these anal, tweedy freaks."   
  
Giles gave Xander a sharp look. "As much as I appreciate the support, Xander, please don't say anything like that where people can hear you." With that, Giles got out of the car. The others followed, and they walked into the building. Marcus was waiting to show them to the room where the tribunal was going to take place.   
  
Buffy looked around with wide eyes when he led them into a huge chamber towards the back of the mansion. It looked kind of like the courtrooms she'd seen on TV. There were rows of seating in the back. The wooden benches looked hard and uncomfortable, quite a contrast from the luxury of the rest of the mansion. In front of the benches, was a railing, separating the benches from two tables -- one for the defense and one for the prosecution. Following the aisle up the room, Buffy's eyes finally landed on the huge podium on a raised dais. This, the dominating feature of the room, was made of thick mahogany that gleamed with polish. On the front had been carved the seal of the Watchers' Council. The carving shone with white and golden paint. Next to the podium, and lower down, was a small boxed in area that seemed like a witness stand. The podium itself was divided into three parts, presumably for the three judges who would oversee the tribunal.   
  
Thus far the room was empty, except for the four of them. Marcus had left soon after guiding them there, claiming he had business to attend to. Giles slowly walked down the aisle and through the gate. He put his briefcase on the defense table. He looked back at Buffy.   
  
"You'll sit there, on the bench behind me."   
  
Buffy nodded quietly.   
  
Giles looked at Joyce and Xander. "And you'll be..."   
  
"In the back," Joyce replied.   
  
Xander suddenly burst into a coughing and gasping fit. After a moment or two, he gasped, "I have this asthma... I have to be able to get out quickly."   
  
"And I'll be there to help him," Joyce added, keeping her face composed and calm.   
  
"Good," Giles replied.   
  
Buffy was still staring at the desk in the front of the room. "Giles, who's going to sit up there? You said three Watchers' will be the judges in your case. How do they decide who it is?"   
  
"Proconsul Chamberlain will sit in the middle," Giles explained. "As the head of the Council, it is his right and duty. Vice Proconsul Post will most likely sit for the case as well. The third spot is a wild card. It is supposed to be filled by someone representative of the Council members not a part of the Proconsul's Advisors. I can't even begin to guess who will have been appointed."   
  
"I'm a little worried about this testing thing," Buffy said, suddenly changing the subject. "All those people will be watching me... it makes me pretty nervous. I don't like being the center of attention. But I want to be a credit to you and your training, Giles. I mean, we've had our ups and downs, I know that, but you've been a good Watcher. I don't think I'd have made it this long as the Slayer without you."   
  
Giles reached over the railing and put a gentle hand on the girls' shoulder. "Don't worry, Buffy. The testing will be a breeze for you. They'll put you through your paces, yes, but it's nothing you can't handle. You're very resourceful, and I have full confidence in you."   
  
"Really?" Buffy met his eyes hopefully. "You think so? I mean, I'm sure Sonya would be better, but..." She bit that comment off quickly, both because it hurt to mention her name while she was missing and because she hadn't wanted Giles to know of her insecurities about being compared to the other girl.   
  
"I've trained two Slayers in my day," Giles answered, "something no one else can claim. Yes, Sonya was a wonderful Slayer, she knew all the rules and she worked well within them. But, you, Buffy are Slayer in your own right. You go beyond the rules. You have good instincts, and a core of inner strength that will pull you through. I know you will shine in the arena today."   
  
Buffy smiled shakily at him, wiping a tear from her eye.   
  
"Wait a minute!" Xander said suddenly. "There's an arena here, too? How big is this place?"   
  
The women burst into laughter as Giles scowled at Xander. But the older man's voice wasn't angry as he explained, "I used arena as a figure of speech, Xander."   
  
"Oh..." Xander replied, giving them a sheepish smile and stuffing his hands into his jacket pockets.   
  
Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of the room's double doors being thrown open to admit a crowd of Watchers, ready to observe the day's proceedings. Wesley was at the head of the group, and he hurried over to his seat at the table next to Giles.   
  
"Well, Rupert, I suppose it's time. Are you ready?" Wesley looked nervous, but he seemed to be trying to project a mask of confidence.   
  
"As I'll ever be," Giles replied, turning away from his support group and sitting down in his chair.   
  
Buffy quietly took her place on the bench behind the defense table. Her oversized purse -- filled with both extra stakes and other weapons and a change of clothes into something more athletic -- sat on the bench beside her. She had to tell herself not to twist around in her seat to find Xander and her mother in the back of the room. She had to act like everything was perfectly normal.   
  
The gate in the railing squeaked as Barrows walked through it to the prosecution's table. He glanced over at Giles with an expression that gave Buffy the creeps. He looked almost happy, in that understated British type of way. Then his eyes moved from the defense table over to her. He seemed surprised for an instant to catch her staring at him, but he covered it well. Buffy felt chilled, but she refused to cower and look away. After a minute, Barrows nodded at her and then turned away. Buffy breathed a sigh of relief and relaxed a little.   
  
Then a door in the front of the room opened, and Marcus walked out wearing a golden robe ((Kind of like a graduation gown) Buffy thought. (Or like a prettier version of the robe Judge Wapner wears.)) and a powdered wig.   
  
"All rise," Marcus intoned grandly.   
  
There was a loud rustling as everyone did as he bid. Buffy watched as the door opened again and a tall thin man walked out. He was old, at least sixty, but he bore the age well. He wore thin, gold-rimmed glasses, and a deep golden robe like the one Marcus had on. His hair was hidden underneath another powdered wig.   
  
"Proconsul Sidney Chamberlain," Marcus announced. The man walked up to the seat of honor in the middle of the podium and took his seat.   
  
"Vice Proconsul Gwendolyn Post," Marcus said a few seconds later.   
  
On the heels of the announcement, Gwendolyn walked out. She, too, wore a golden robe. It flowed around her willowy body as she walked confidently to her place at the proconsul's right hand. Perhaps because she was a woman, Gwendolyn wasn't wearing a powdered wig, but her blonde hair was pulled back tightly in a ponytail and tied with a golden ribbon, just like the tails of the men's wigs.   
  
The door opened again, and another robed, wigged figure walked out. Before Marcus could even say his name, a rush of surprised gasps and whispers hissed around the room. The man looked nervous, but he walked to his spot by the proconsul's left hand with as much regal bearing as he could muster.   
  
His face inscrutable, Marcus waited until the room was quiet, and then announced the name of the third sitting judge. "Aidan O'Shea." 


	16. Chapter 15

In the Space of a Journey  
Chapter Fifteen   
  
England: The Compound   
  
Under the cover of the wave of surprised exclamations sweeping the assembly, Buffy leaned forward and grabbed Giles by the shoulders. "Aidan is the third judge?"   
  
Giles looked just as shocked as Buffy felt. "I... I don't know..."   
  
"This is just odd," Wesley grumbled to himself. "Of all the people, they pick him?"   
  
Buffy thought back to that day in Aidan's flat. She leaned in so she could whisper to Giles without even Wesley overhearing. "He must be on the side of whoever's behind the kidnapping. That would explain why he threw Doyle out, the one person who suspected the Council. And now the conspiracy people arranged for him to have this job! This tribunal is a set up, Giles!"   
  
Giles turned around and looked at Buffy fiercely. He hissed. "Don't say such things. Not in here. And no matter what we think, we can't do anything about it now, and not without proof."   
  
"Order!" Marcus bellowed suddenly. All conversations trickled to a stop. Giles gave Buffy one more stern look and turned around. Buffy sat back in on her bench, but she wasn't upset at Giles's reprimand. Now she knew now, for sure, that Giles wouldn't blindly trust the Council. She'd suspected as much all along, but now she had confirmation. And if Giles was suspicious, then it made her feel not so off-base in her own fears.   
  
Proconsul Chamberlain struck his gavel against a small circlet of wood, distracting Buffy from her thoughts. "May I have order, please," the man said, his voice polite. "It is time for the tribunal to begin."   
  
At the sound of his voice, Buffy looked up and found his eyes on her. She stared back at him for a second, and then he smiled. Confused, Buffy looked away.   
  
"Mr. Barrows, if you would like to begin," Chamberlain said, shifting his gaze over to the man in question.   
  
"Yes, sir," Barrows replied, and then he stood up to begin his speech.   
  
"The Watchers' Council has been an institution for hundreds of years," Barrows began. He paced back and forth as he spoke, giving eye-contact both to the three judges and to the people in the audience. He exuded confidence with each and every word. "We have a sacred duty to nurture and protect the Slayer, and we are honor-bound to save our world from the minions of darkness that try to overtake it at every turn. But to do so sets us as a breed apart from normal men and women. We must live outside the world to have the perspective to save it." A murmur of agreement echoed around the room as Barrows quoted Council lore, but a stern look from Chamberlain squelched it so Barrows could continue his speech.   
  
"Our sacred duties have been passed down to us...," Barrows said with an undercurrent of emotion beneath his proper words and diction. "To all of us... for generations. It is a destiny second in importance only to the destiny of the Slayer, and as such it must be taken seriously. Every Watcher takes an oath upon ascending to his or her office, an oath of loyalty, honesty and lifelong service for as long as it will be needed. It has taken the Council centuries to discover the proper rules and the necessary mandates for doing our sacred duty, which have been written down in the Watchers' Codes, and we have all taken the oath to observe those Codes of conduct despite what we feel in the heat of the moment. This takes flaw and human error out of the equasion, as it has been proved many times over the years."   
  
Barrows turned dramatically and stared straight at Giles. "But today a man has been brought before us. He has broken the Codes that bind us together, the Codes he swore to uphold. He has fractured the unity of the Council, and without that unity our work to save the world stands at the brink of chaos. This man, Watcher Rupert Giles, falsified reports and evidence. He allowed his Slayer's spine to be broken, and then instead of calling upon the Council for help he took it upon himself to appoint a human male to fill the role. He appointed himself the Slayer's father, and he told unknown numbers our secrets, including a vampire! And then Mr. Giles arranged for the most secret of our records to be pilfered, and he again took it upon himself to Choose the next Slayer, only this time he performed a spell that moved the powers from the broken Slayer to the new girl. Mr. Giles took the Choosing out of the hands of the Powers that Be, elevating himself to a higher position than any man, Watcher or not, deserves!"   
  
Rumors had been flying for weeks, but now Giles's crimes were out there for all to see. Accusatory glances were directed his way. He sat calmly, listening to it all as if he were an impartial observer. Buffy didn't think she could be so tranquil in his shoes.   
  
"Now we are here to decide what to do with this man," Barrows continued, looking back at the judges. "He will claim extenuating circumstances, of course. He will claim that the Council cannot understand what it was like for him, that he had no choice, perhaps even that there were things on a Hellmouth to deal with that we never anticipated. But he is wrong. All these things have been anticipated, and that is why our Codes were written, to protect the Slayer and, first and foremost, more important than any one person, to protect the world from all that is evil. Mr. Giles has caused us to call the first disciplinary tribunal in over a century. He has broken down everything we've sworn to protect, and as we continue, I will prove that, had they not been stopped, his actions would have had even more serious effects than they have already. And all I ask is that you listen with your minds, not your hearts. If you do that then the verdict will be obvious, as will the penalty. Mr. Giles must be stripped of his duty of active Watcher, and punished, at the very least, by immediate expulsion from the Council and allowed no further contact with the Slayer on pain of death!"   
  
Barrows paused and took a deep breath. "Thank you," he said, and then he took his seat again.   
  
Giles and Wesley exchanged a glance, and then Wesley stood up to begin his opening speech.   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
"We're missing the tribunal."   
  
"Someone had to stay here."   
  
"But how often is there a tribunal? Once a millennia? We could leave her alone for a little while. She's unconscious, and even if she does wake up, she wouldn't get past the locks *and* the doors."   
  
"Hush! She's coming around."   
  
Sonya heard the voices before she opened her eyes, but they were just sounds. The words didn't make any sense. Pain flooded her head as she crept closer and closer to consciousness. She didn't want to wake up. Something deep inside told her that waking up and opening her eyes was bad. But she couldn't help it. Sonya opened her eyes and looked around.   
  
The light blinded her for an instant -- fluorescent light bounced off of mirrored walls and stainless-steel surfaces. When her eyes adjusted, she saw a man and a woman looking down on her. Both wore white robes and carried clipboards.   
  
She tried to lick her lips, but her tongue and mouth were just as dry. "Water," she croaked, trying to remember how she'd gotten there.   
  
The woman looked at her for a minute. Then she picked up a pitcher on the table next to the bed and filled a glass. With gentle hands, the woman raised Sonya's head up a little bit, and held the glass to her lips. Sonya drank greedily until the glass was empty. The woman removed the glass and put the girl's head back down on the pillow.   
  
Sonya searched through her memory, but things were fuzzy. She couldn't remember why she was in the hospital. Then again, she'd been in and out of the hospital so many times since her accident, it wasn't surprising that they all blended together. But something nagged at her about this time. There was something wrong about it. The way the man and woman were staring at each other over her head...   
  
"Excuse me, but can you tell me..." Sonya tried to raise her hand to touch the woman's white sleeve. That was the moment she realized that she was bound in the bed by thick leather straps. She couldn't move her hands, her feet or anything.   
  
"Hey!" she protested, trying to move, but it was no use. Even when she'd had the Slayer powers she would have been hard-pressed to break these bonds. "What are..." That was when the memories started flooding back... again. England, vampires, Doyle, a cell, food dusted with tiger whiskers that shredded her insides, more torture (called experiments of her healing factor) including poisons, knives, lashes and worse. No wonder she'd repressed!   
  
Tears brimmed in her eyes. Sonya fought them, determined to show her captors her strength. Only one tear escaped. Looking straight at the woman, Sonya asked, "Why are you doing this to me? Why can't you just let me go?"   
  
The man laughed. "Let you go? Preposterous. What kind of fools do you take us for? Do you really think we'd just let you go when your powers can do so much for our..."   
  
The woman stopped his voice with a steely-eyed glance. "Hush, Charles! You should know better how to guard your tongue."   
  
Charles looked suitably abashed.   
  
"Just tell me one thing, then," Sonya demanded. She knew they didn't have to tell her anything they didn't want to, but she had to try, and she had to keep the normal edge to her personality. Holding onto appearances of strength was all the strength she had left. "What happened to Doyle? Are you torturing him, too?"   
  
The woman seemed to take pity on Sonya. "He's still in the cell. He's as fine as he was when you left him."   
  
Sonya grimaced at that comment -- as if she'd had a choice about leaving. "And how long are you planning to keep him that way?"   
  
Charles shook his head. "I wouldn't ask that question, if I were you."   
  
Then the two of them turned away from her and walked out the door, leaving her alone with only multiple copies of her own reflection for company.   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
"...and so we cannot depend just upon rules and regulations for this case. You must all search your hearts..."   
  
Xander turned to Joyce with a sigh as Wesley walked right into Barrows' trap, and whispered in her ear, "He's saying exactly what Barrows said he would say! That's not going to help Giles."   
  
"But what other argument can he make?" Joyce pointed out, her voice no more than a tiny gust of wind against Xander's cheek. "It's not his fault that Barrows is experienced enough to anticipate that." She sighed as Wesley stumbled over his wording again. "Though I wish someone else had been appointed to defend Giles."   
  
Xander winced, wishing the same thing. "I hope they do something noisier soon, so we can get out of here and do our job."   
  
Joyce's tiny smile said she wished the same thing. They weren't doing any good just sitting and listening to the proceedings.   
  
"...so please keep these things in mind as you listen to the circumstantial evidence that is brought before you against Mr. Giles. Er... and thank you." Wesley nodded briefly at the judges before sinking gratefully back into his chair.   
  
"Thank you, gentlemen," Chamberlain said. His ringing tones appropriately filled the huge chamber. When the proconsul spoke, his words seemed to fill the room. "Now, the first order of business, before we hear any testimony, is the testing of the Slayer. This will determine much about Mr. Giles capability in his appointed position." Chamberlain paused and then looked straight at Buffy. "Are you prepared?"   
  
Giles glanced back at her and whispered, "Stand when you address them, Buffy."   
  
Nervously, Buffy stood. She could feel hundreds of eyes boring into her. "Um... yes, sir. I'm ready. I just have to dress... I mean change out of my dress... uh... and into workout clothes," she stammered. She felt a hot flush coloring her cheeks.   
  
"Quite right," Chamberlain replied, an indulgent smile on his lips. "The tribunal shall recess for..." He glanced at his watch. "... fifteen minutes. And then we will reconvene at court number six." The proconsul's eyes were cold when they landed on Giles. "And Mr. Giles, please remember, you are to have no contact with the Slayer until after the test."   
  
Giles nodded, and then turned to give Buffy one last, encouraging half-smile. Buffy smiled back as Marcus walked over to her.   
  
"Are you quite ready?" he asked.   
  
Buffy nodded. She picked up her bag and her jacket and started for the door of the chamber with Marcus as escort. She could feel the eyes on her again, and she focused on her feet.   
  
A hand stopped her before she had quite reached the door. She looked up and saw Xander looking at her with love in his eyes.   
  
"I know you can do this, Buffy. I have faith in you." He clasped her hand for a second. Buffy felt something hard pressed her palm. She gave him a puzzled smile before stuffing the cold, metal object in her jacket pocket quickly so that Marcus wouldn't notice.   
  
"Thanks, Xan." Before she could ask what it was that he'd given her, Marcus placed a hand on her shoulder and, after shooting Xander a glare, escorted her through the imposing doors.   
  
As Buffy walked through the doors and into the hallway, she glanced over her shoulder one last time and caught sight of Xander. He gave her one of his quirky, lopsided grins and a thumbs up sign. She smiled back at him, already feeling more confident just knowing that he believed in her.   
  
As she turned a corner and headed down the hallway toward the exercise courts, Buffy kept Xander's image in the forefront of her mind. As soon as Buffy was in the changing room, and sure she was alone, she reached into her jacket pocket to discover what Xander had given her. It was a silver ring with a cross symbol etched on it. It was obviously one of Xander's rings since it was too big to fit on her ring finger. In fact, now that she thought about it, Buffy vaguely remembering him wearing it a time or two, though not too often -- Xander wasn't really a ring man. Smiling, Buffy quickly slid the ring onto her right, middle finger, happy to have something of Xander's to hold onto during the trials ahead.   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
After Buffy had been escorted out of the room, Wesley and Giles walked out together. The judges disappeared into the chambers behind the podium, and then the rest of the crowd began to disperse quickly, most of them heading for the exercise courts hoping to get prime seating to watch the Slayer do her thing.   
  
Joyce and Xander were almost the last two people in the room. Xander glanced at Joyce. It was now or never. She nodded, affirming that she was ready, too. Casually, they stood and walked out of the room. In the hallway, they followed the crowd a short distance, until they passed an unobtrusive, open door. They slipped inside to wait, shutting the door behind them.   
  
"It won't be long," Joyce whispered, looking at her watch. "Buffy's test will start in about five minutes. Then we should be free to snoop around."   
  
"As free as we'll ever be," Xander replied softly. He looked around the room as much as he could without turning on the light. Only a few beams of sunlight were able to make their way through the closed blinds. The room appeared to be an anteroom of some sort. There was a table with a few chairs, a couple of shelves, a painting or two on the walls, and that was about it.   
  
Glancing back at Joyce, Xander suggested, "Maybe we should plan our strategy while we have time."   
  
"Good idea." Joyce nodded in agreement.   
  
Xander thought back to what Giles had told them about the Compound. The boy wished again that Giles had a map of the building, but no such luck. "Now, Giles said that the upper levels are mostly living quarters," he murmured, aware, as ever, of how bad it would look for Giles and Buffy if he and Joyce were caught somewhere they weren't supposed to be. "I agree with him that the logical place for Sonya and Doyle to be hidden is downstairs, in the basement level or lower. We just have to find the right stairway."   
  
Suddenly, Joyce's eyes lit up with excitement. "Do you remember the tour we took the other day?"   
  
Xander nodded, waiting for her to continue.   
  
"Well, I think I remember passing a stairway that went down. Remember right after we came back inside and Buffy had gone to the ladies room? That woman, Ms. Post, opened a door underneath that large, main staircase near the front doors. I was standing right behind her, and I thought it was just going to be a closet. Then, I swear, I saw a staircase. It was only for a minute then she went inside and closed the door, but it was there."   
  
"Great!" Xander exclaimed quietly. "At least now we've got a place to start." He glanced at his watch. "Well, it's time. Ready?"   
  
Joyce nodded, and Xander opened the door. He stepped out into an empty hallway. He could hear the muffled noise of cheering and yelling coming from his left. He turned right and began walking quickly toward the entrance of the mansion. Joyce kept right on his heels. Luckily, they didn't pass anyone in the halls. Apparently, almost everyone was in the exercise courts watching the events of the day. When they got to the grand staircase in the front of the mansion, the door was just where Joyce had remembered. Xander motioned for her to stand back, then he tried the door. It was locked. He looked at Joyce.   
  
"You have the keys Giles gave you?"   
  
Joyce nodded and pulled the small key ring out of her pocket. Giles had given her a copy of his master key. It was supposed to fit all the locks in the Compound that weren't private quarters. He hadn't been sure it would still work, but it was the only one they had so it was worth a try. Also on the ring were copies of the rental car keys, and a small key that Joyce could only assume belonged to Giles's suitcase. She put the master key in the lock, and the door opened easily.   
  
Xander looked at the door incredulously. "I expected it to be a little harder than that."   
  
Joyce slid the keys back into her pocket, and then walked through the door. "Don't worry until there's something to worry about," she advised him. "Come on!"   
  
Xander followed her inside and closed the door after them. The stairs went down for a flight, and then they found themselves in a little room. There were two velvet covered chairs with an antique table between them on one side of the room, and on the other side was a fireplace. Two unlit torches framed the mantle over the fireplace. There wasn't anything else.   
  
"What the hell is this?" Xander demanded angrily, the frustration he'd been holding inside ever since the trip started to go sour finally bubbling forth. "Who puts a deadend room at the bottom of their freaking staircase? There's nothing here!" Despairing thoughts of failure at helping Buffy, Giles, Sonya and everyone else whirled around in his head.   
  
"Shhh!" Joyce cautioned, touching his arm to calm him down. "I think you're asking the right questions, but you should ask them more quietly."   
  
Xander glared at Joyce. "You realize we're going to have to start all over now, and we don't know where to go in this huge place. It's going to be like looking for a needle in a haystack!"   
  
"Maybe not," Joyce replied thoughtfully. "I think you were on the right track before. You're right, there's no reason to put a room down here like this, unless there is something here... something we're not seeing."   
  
Looking around, Xander didn't see anything that could be construed as a door or more stairs. He leaned down and peered into the fireplace. Nothing but a brick wall. He craned his neck to look up. There wasn't even a chimney. He looked back at Joyce. "There's nothing in here. This fireplace isn't even real. It's all a big fake out!" Xander stomped over to the chairs and plopped down in one, grunting in frustration. "Now what are we..." His grumbling turned into a cry of surprise when the chair he'd collapsed into reared backwards on two legs. Xander flailed his arms around to regain his balance and the chair slowly settled itself onto the floor.   
  
"They don't even put quality furniture in their stupid, fake anterooms," he muttered, glancing up at Joyce to see if she'd noticed his less than graceful moment. That was when he saw a look of joy on her face. He followed her gaze, and his mouth dropped open in shock. The fire place had swung out from the wall, and behind it was a door.   
  
"I guess that's what we're looking for," Joyce commented.   
  
"Uh... yeah," Xander replied. Then he got himself together, and walked over to the door. It was unlocked. Not surprising, Xander thought, considering how well it was hidden. "Shall we?" He opened the door and walked through, followed by Joyce.   
  
They stepped across the threshold into an institutionalized hallway that could have belonged in any hospital, lab or prison: tile floors, fluorescent lighting, and all.   
  
Before they shut the door, they heard a small thud. They looked back to see that the fireplace had closed behind them. Xander leaned in to examine it, and saw a small button cleverly placed in an indention at about waist height. Satisfied that they could get out again, he let the other door close. Then he looked up and down the hallway, seeing nothing but more hallway and a few doors in either direction. This part of the Compound seemed deserted, too. Had everyone gone to the tribunal?   
  
"So..." Xander glanced at Joyce. "Do you have a vote on which way we should go?"   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
Doyle sat in his lonely cell staring up at the tiny glimmer of sunlight peeking through his tiny, barred window and trying not to listen to his growling stomach. Marcus and the guard had both come back with trays of food, but after what had happened to Sonya, there was no way Doyle was going to put any of that stuff in his mouth, much less swallow it.   
  
He sighed. It seemed like he'd been in here an eternity since Sonya had been taken away. Lying in a featureless cell with no one for company but yourself made the time pass excruciatingly slowly. Compound that with his worry about Sonya, his fear for the Slayer and her friends, and even for Aidan, and Doyle was even more stir crazy.   
  
"If only there was somethin' I could do, but no! Me only option is sittin' in this blasted cage like an overgrown rat," Doyle muttered to himself. Then he stopped and thought for a minute. "An' now I realize that I'm talkin' to meself in here. I think that's even more dangerous than the poisoned food! I gotta think o' somethin' to keep meself sane..."   
  
Doyle thought for a minute, and then he came up with something, something that would keep him sane, and maybe even annoy the heck out of his captors.   
  
The Irishman opened his mouth and suddenly began to sing at the top of his lungs.   
  
"Ninety-nine bottles of ale on tha wall. Ninety-nine bottles of ale. Take one down. Pass 'er around. Ninety-eight bottles of ale on the wall! Ninety-eight bottles..."   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
Xander and Joyce hurried down the institutionalized corridor below the Compound. Xander had the feeling that time was slowly slipping away from them. It had been amazing luck that they hadn't been caught thus far -- a combination, he supposed, of sloppy guarding and the draw of the tribunal. But it seemed like this luck couldn't hold out forever.   
  
They stopped outside every door they passed, and tried to find out what was inside. A few of the doors opened easily, revealing rooms that reminded Xander of examination rooms in a doctor's office. Other rooms were locked up tight, with no secret latches or moving chairs to get them inside.   
  
"Look at that!" Joyce hissed suddenly.   
  
Xander followed her pointed finger with his gaze and saw what had made her excited. The endless stretch of white wall had a big grey splotch on it -- a gray splotch that looked like some kind of door. He picked up his pace, and a few seconds later skidded to a stop in front of a thick, metal door. He stood up on his tiptoes and craned his neck to look in the tiny window in the door.   
  
Joyce, who was shorter, asked frantically, "What do you see?"   
  
"Just a second..." Xander squinted, trying to make something out in the dim lighting. After a moment, he saw a form laying on the floor by the wall. "Yeah, someone's in there. I think... yeah, it's Doyle."   
  
As his eyes adjusted a little more, he could make out more details, including the fact that Doyle's mouth was moving. Xander strained, and thought he heard something odd.   
  
"Seventy-seven bottles of ale on the wall..."   
  
"I think he's singing," Xander said, dumbfounded.   
  
"What about Sonya?" Joyce asked.   
  
Xander looked around the little cell hopefully, but she wasn't there. He shook his head and dropped back down to look at the keypad next to the door. The little light bulb on the keypad was red.   
  
"Damn it!" Xander muttered. "There's no way through that! We've gotten all this way, and we can't even open the door!"   
  
Then he got an idea. After making sure there still wasn't anyone in the hallway, Xander banged on the metal door with his fist. To Joyce, he said, "Maybe we can at least talk to him. He might know something about Sonya, or the keypad."   
  
It took some doing, but finally, the banging -- muffled through several layers of metal -- attracted Doyle's attention, and he walked over to the door. Doyle's face lit up when he recognized Xander peering through the little window.   
  
"Hey, man! Are ye tha cavalry?"   
  
"Only if you know how to unlock this door." Xander looked at Doyle hopefully.   
  
Doyle's face fell. "No. I cannae even see the lock from this angle."   
  
"Where's Sonya?" Xander asked. His heart sank when Doyle's face fell even further.   
  
"I haven't a clue. She ate poisoned food and started spittin' up oceans o' blood. Then some goons in white coats took her away. They say she's all right, but they haven't been the most credible sources so far. Xander, man, does the Council know yer in here? Because, if they don't, I'm suggestin' ye get the hell outta here, now. Not that I wouldnae appreciate a rescue, but not if ye have to sacrifice yerself."   
  
"We aren't leaving without you," Xander swore. "Let me just look at this lock..." He came down from his tiptoes and he and Joyce stared at the keypad. It had the traditional ten digits, and a green button in addition to the red light.   
  
Joyce pointed to the keyhole in the door. "Look. We'd need a key, too. I don't think we can do this, Xander."   
  
"Damn it!" Xander hit the door with his fist, wincing in pain. "We can't just leave him here!"   
  
"Yes, ye can!" Doyle called from inside the cell. "Just tell the Slayer where the Council has me stashed, and maybe she or Giles can find the right keys. There's this blonde woman and this man called Marcus who keep comin' in to check on me. They must have keys..."   
  
"Gwendolyn Post," Xander realized. Joyce nodded in agreement.   
  
"That sounds like a better plan that trying to knock the door down with your fist," Joyce told him.   
  
Then, a few meters down the hall, a door opened. Xander and Joyce froze in horror.   
  
"Hey! You aren't supposed to be in here!" the man who came through the door called when he saw them.   
  
"Doyle!" Xander called frantically. "Don't worry. Someone will be back for you!" Then he grabbed Joyce's hand and they started running back in the direction of the secret fireplace door.   
  
Behind them, the man hit a button on the wall, and an alarm went off. Several more men joined him in the chase.   
  
As they ran, Xander reached out for a cart someone had left against a wall. He turned it sideways and wedged it in a doorframe, stalling the men for a moment.   
  
Xander could see Joyce's chest heaving as she struggled to keep up with him. Finally, they skidded to a halt by the door. As Joyce tried to open it, Xander realized that there was no way this would work. If they both ran through the fireplace, they could be cornered and trapped like rats in a basement cage. He looked back and saw their pursuers had gotten past the cart.   
  
The door came open, and Xander pushed Joyce through. "Tell Giles and Buffy what happened," Xander told her. "And don't forget, Giles said if anything went wrong we were supposed to meet at the car."   
  
"No!" Joyce protested. "We can make it!"   
  
"I'll meet you at the car," Xander said. "I'll lead them another way." He shoved Joyce harder, and slammed the door behind her, leaving her -- he hoped -- no choice but to get back up to the first floor. He pulled out his boot knife and thrust the blade into the door mechanism. He must've hit something important, because something sparked and began to smoke. Satisfied that he'd bought Joyce a little time, Xander turned and began to run again. But he'd only gotten a few steps down the hall when he felt a hand clamp down on his shoulder.   
  
Whirling, Xander grabbed the man's arm and used his momentum to flip the guy over his shoulder. Another white-coated Watcher came up. Xander gave him a jaw-cracking punch to the face, another solid punch to the stomach, and finished him off with a roundhouse kick, sending the man flying back into the wall. But they were coming too fast. Xander didn't have a minute to catch his breath or plan his next move between opponents. He saw one guy trying to open the jammed door. Xander lunged forward and tackled the guy football style, sending them both falling to the ground. Quickly gaining the upperhand, Xander rained punches down on the man's unprotected head. The lessons he'd learned as Pseudo-Slayer were coming in handy, and his training worked much better against normal humans than demons.   
  
Another man grabbed Xander around the waist, pulling him off of the guy who'd tried to open the door. Xander twisted out of the man's grasp and lashed out with a viscous kick. His foot smashed into the man's face with a sickening crunch.   
  
Suddenly, there was a whooshing sound and Xander dropped to the ground, running completely on instinct. He barely missed getting hit by a burst of flame. Rolling onto his back, Xander saw a young man with dark hair and glowing red eyes advancing on him. Flames crackled around the guy's fingertips. Xander scrambled to his feet and took a step back, deciding that this guy was something more than human. And therefore, unlike the Watchers, something he could kill without feeling guilty. Xander pulled his other knife out of the sheath he'd taped to his forearm and, without waiting for the flame guy to make his next more, threw it at the guy's heart with deadly accuracy. The blade twinkled in the fluorescent light as it spun through the air. It partially embedded itself in his chest and the man screamed. Xander lashed out with his foot, using his kick to push the knife in up to the hilt. The fire-wielder crumpled to the floor and Xander looked for his next opponent.   
  
A man with silver-grey hair stepped forward and began to chant in some language that Xander didn't understand. A purple glow began to form around the magician. Xander had seen enough. Leaping straight up, his hands latched onto a pipe on the ceiling and Xander hung there for a second. Swinging back to gain some momentum, he then swung forward and kicked the guy with both feet, causing him to stop chanting and fall over backwards.   
  
Xander dropped nimbly back to the ground. He stood up, turned around and found himself staring into the face of a young girl - she couldn't be more than 12 or 13 years old - with brilliant blue eyes. Suddenly, Xander felt himself unable to move, or even look away.   
  
"That's it," Blue Eyes murmured in a soothing voice. "Be calm... Be still..."   
  
The another pair of hands clamped down on Xander's shoulders. He felt a jolting pain, like electricity shooting through his body. Then he was falling. Xander lost consciousness before he hit the floor.   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
Exercise court number six was the largest indoor court in the entire Compound. Buffy stepped through the door from the anteroom she'd been given to change in and looked up trepidaciously from the lowered floor of the court. Stands for onlookers made a raised semi-circle around half of the room. Buffy swallowed nervously as she looked them over. They were completely full. When those seatted in the stands spotted her, there was a smattering of applause. Buffy gave them a wan smile and continued to scour the area for the one person she wanted to see.   
  
The three judges, still wearing their golden robes, had special seats right in the best line of sight. Buffy contemplated them for a minute. Gwendolyn sat expressionless, as usual. Proconsul Chamberlain had a small smile on his face as he cleaned his glasses with the sleeve of his robe. Aidan looked uncomfortable.   
  
Buffy knew she would not see Xander or her mother there. They should have taken advantage of the movement to begin their clandestine survey of the mansion. But Giles had to be there somewhere. She kept looking, and then she finally found him. He and Wesley had seats on the end of a bench on the far right side of the semi-circle -- probably the worst seats in the house. She noticed that no one sat near them. Onlookers were crammed into every inch of seating except for the seats nearest to the members of the defense.   
  
She sighed and suddenly wished the test would start all ready. Standing here and worrying wasn't doing her any good. Buffy hoped that once she was exerting herself her brain wouldn't have the time to dwell on things like Giles and his future, what her mother and boyfriend were doing or all the millions of eyes focused solely on her. Buffy clenched her fists tight, and felt the ring Xander had given her on her finger. She twisted it and felt a small gleam of comfort thinking of her boyfriend. Suddenly Buffy was happier than ever that they'd managed to patch up their relationship. Just knowing he was out there helped her state of mind a lot. She'd been forced to leave everything but her apparel in the anteroom, including all her weapons, so the ring was her only tangible link to home.   
  
Then the proconsul stood and prepared to speak. The instant he took in a deep breath all conversations in the room dwindled to a hush. His voice carried easily throughout the room without the aid of a microphone.   
  
"Marcus," he called, "bring out the cart."   
  
A pair of doors behind her opened, and Marcus walked out, the hem of his robe flapping as he walked. He pushed a cart covered with a cloth.   
  
"Buffy Summers," Chamberlain said, "choose your weapons wisely. You may choose any two on the cart. But only two. When you are done, the test will begin."   
  
Marcus pulled off the cloth, and Buffy looked at the dazzling display of weapons. The blades on a sword, several knives in varying sizes, a battle axe and a smaller axe gleamed enticingly. There were the usual stakes, holy water and crosses. Her eye lingered on a huge crossbow with easy loading and several spare bolts. She picked up a mace to test its heft and then set it back down in its spot. On the bottom shelf were several longer weapons, including a bo staff and a wooden tipped spear. In the corner, she was surprised to notice a small revolver and something else that looked like a tazer.   
  
Buffy looked at them all, wondering which would serve her best in the test. She knew she would have to fight, and she assumed she probably would be fighting vampires. Then again, Buffy knew that anything was possible. The Council might have brought in some random demon.   
  
Thinking quickly, Buffy grabbed the stake with the best heft and stuck it in her waist band. It was the weapon she was most familiar with, and a stake through the heart would kill almost anything, though only vampires would poof away into dust. But choosing the second weapon proved more difficult. There were so many interesting choices. The crossbow was especially tempting.   
  
"Ms. Summers, are you ready?" the proconsul prodded after a couple of minutes. She could tell her time for thought was almost up.   
  
After a second more, Buffy grabbed a dagger and fastened the sheath straps around her leg. Looking up at Chamberlain, she announced, "Ready."   
  
The proconsul nodded at Marcus, and the younger man took the cart and the cloth and exited the fighting area. Buffy looked around, noting the wooden walls scattered about the area. They'd obviously been brought in for this event.   
  
(Sure) Buffy thought ironically. (Me going one-on-one against a vampire in an empty pit wouldn't have been any type of challenge. Let's give the vamp places to hide!)   
  
She looked up again, and met the proconsul's smiling eyes. She tried to smile back, conscious of all the eyes on her. She wanted to project a confident facade.   
  
"So, now what?" she asked, after a long pause.   
  
"Now the test begins," Chamberlain replied. "Marcus. Open the cage."   
  
The was a loud clanking noise, and Buffy looked around anxiously, waiting for something bad to spring out of nowhere. She had no idea where the cage was, or from which direction her opponent would come.   
  
Buffy turned around, looking in all directions. She kept her weight on the balls of her feet, poised to run or to attack. But still nothing came. The seconds stretched by, and still nothing happened. Buffy could sense the crowd getting restless. What a show -- watching the Slayer just stand there!   
  
Though wisdom said Buffy should wait for the fight to come to her, she got impatient. There were so many reasons to hurry -- she wanted to know about Joyce and Xander, she wanted to make the kill extra quickly so Giles would look good, she wanted to get out of the spotlight...   
  
Buffy took a deep breath, and then started walking. The sound of the cage opening had seemed to come vaguely from her left, though the echoes in the cavernous room made it hard to tell. Gripping her stake in her right hand, Buffy moved to the left until she reached the first wall. There was no telling what was on the other side. She got as close to the wall as possible, and then sprang around the other side. Nothing.   
  
"Hey, baby... lookin' fer me?"   
  
The unexpected voice made Buffy look up. A vampire in a Led Zeppelin T-shirt was balanced on the top of the narrow wall. He grinned at her with a mouth full of fangs. Then he dropped down on top of her.   
  
Buffy froze for a second, and then sprang out of the way, barely avoiding the vampire. He landed on his feet easily. Buffy took stock of him -- besides the T-shirt, he looked like a normal, old vampire. Though his cheeks looked a bit on the thin side, and he seemed even more pale than a normal vamp.   
  
"C'mon, baby," Zeppelin said, feinting towards her and then pulling back. "I'm hungry, and you look so sweet."   
  
"Peaches and cream, that's me," Buffy quipped, launching a kick at him. Her aim was true, and the vamp staggered back.   
  
He roared and lunged for her, grabbing her around the waist. Buffy tried to avoid him, but he locked his hands around her with an immobile grip. Her stake went flying. Her struggles got her nowhere. So Buffy stopped struggling. The vampire looked up in surprise and in a lightning series of moves, Buffy head butted him and raised her knee into his stomach. Zeppelin grunted in pain and his grip loosened enough for Buffy to get out of it.   
  
"Thought you could hold me, did you?" Buffy's grin of triumph turned into a shocked expression as she was grabbed from behind and thrown into another of the walls. Her head struck the wall with a crack that was audible all over the court. Buffy fought back the pain and opened her eyes to see Zeppelin advancing on her with a buddy in a red hat.   
  
"I thought the Slayer was supposed to be tough," Red Hat commented with a growl. "We'll win our freedom easily."   
  
"We got more of a challenge from the demon and the former Slayer," Zeppelin replied, laughing at the fallen Buffy.   
  
Buffy didn't know what they were talking about and right now she really didn't care. She just wanted to get this whole thing over with as soon as possible. She lay still as they advanced. Buffy closed her eyes and kept watch through her lashes.   
  
"I get the first bite," Zeppelin said, leaning down.   
  
"Says who..." Red Hat started, but Buffy's fist in his face interrupted his comment. The vamp staggered back and Zeppelin looked at Buffy in shock.   
  
"Ever heard of playing possum?" Buffy asked acerbically. Without waiting for an answer, Buffy pulled the dagger from its sheath and embedded it in Zeppelin's heart.   
  
The vampire howled in pain, and then started to laugh. "You think simple steel can harm me?"   
  
Red Hat came up behind her and pinioned her arms to her sides.   
  
"Oh, I'm goin' to enjoy this more than anythin' I've eaten in a long time," Red Hat muttered. Zeppelin pulled the dagger out of his chest and began advancing again.   
  
Buffy struggled, and managed to get one arm free. But she didn't have a good angle to punch with. Then she got an idea. She lifted the arm up and placed the back of her hand against Red Hat's cheek. Both vampires looked confused, then Red Hat started to scream. Zeppelin faltered back. Buffy pulled out of Red Hat's grip and in a series of complex flips landed next to her stake. She picked it up and smiled at the ring on her hand.   
  
"Smart Xander," she said quietly. "He knew a cross would come in handy."   
  
Furious, Red Hat lowered his head and charged straight at her.   
  
"The direct approach," Buffy commented. "Interesting choice." She simply held out the stake and let Red Hat impale himself. "Saves me the work of actually fighting..." Then she turned her attention to Zeppelin.   
  
"I ain't that stupid," he growled, lunging at her with the knife. The blade whistled by her, actually cutting off a small chunk of her hair.   
  
Buffy raised her eyebrows at him. "Attacking the 'do! Now that was uncalled for!" She got a running start, and aimed a kick right at his knife hand. The blade went tumbling to the ground. Buffy landed easily, and grabbed his arm and smashed it over her knee. Then she stuck the stake in his chest.   
  
"Oh, shi..." Zeppelin started to say, but he was interrupted when he exploded into dust. Buffy coughed a little bit as some of the disgusting substance flew into her nose. Her black sweat pants and gray T-shirt were coated with the mess. She breathed a deep sigh of relief, and pushed her sweaty hair back from her forehead.   
  
That was when she heard the clapping. The audience of Watchers were all on their feet clapping for her. Buffy began to blush. Part of her was flattered. The people she owed (albeit in a round about way) for her training thought she was good. Another part of her was angry. No one had said anything about more than one vampire. It hadn't been a fair test! But she'd passed anyway.   
  
"That'll show 'em," Buffy muttered. She smiled when her eyes landed on Giles. He was looking at her with an expression of pride on his face.   
  
Then, suddenly, a man in a white coat ran up to the proconsul and began to whisper in his ear. Chamberlain's face went from friendly and mild to furious. The man gestured and two Watcher guards grabbed Giles by the arms.   
  
"Hey!" Buffy shouted. "What the..." Then a hand clamped down on her arm. She looked up and saw Marcus.   
  
"I know you can take me, Buffy," the young man said, "but if I were you, I'd just come with me quietly. We've got some questions to ask you and Mr. Giles about an attempted infiltration of areas of the Compound neither of you have the clearance for."   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
Joyce ran up the stairs and out into the entryway. There she was faced with a difficult decision -- try and find Buffy and Giles in what was bound to be a well-guarded area or go to the car. She couldn't hear the alarm any more, but Joyce was sure that "they" were looking for her now.   
  
She edged toward the front door, deciding to go with the "meet at the car" scenario. Then she heard footsteps. Joyce crouched down between a table and a chair, hoping that no one would see her.   
  
A man and a woman, obviously Watchers, came down the main stairs at a quick pace. They were talking to each other in clipped tones. Joyce strained to hear what they were saying.   
  
"Is a full lockdown necessary?" the man asked.   
  
"Yes, Daemon!" the woman replied. "Compound security has been compromised. Two of Mr. Giles's proteges managed to infiltrate the inner sanctum. We caught one of them, the Harris boy, but he managed to keep our operatives busy long enough for his accomplice to escape. And to top it off, he incapacitated two of our finest before they were able to stop him. Not to mention the number of security guards he took down."   
  
The man, Daemon, gasped. "Are you saying that he fought some of our operatives successfully? But that's impossible. He's just a human!"   
  
"Nothing is impossible."   
  
Daemon glanced away in order to escape his female companion's steely gaze. When his eyes turned in her direction, Joyce scooted back further behind the chair and held her breath, hoping that they hadn't seen her. After a second, their conversation resumed and Joyce breathed a sigh of relief.   
  
"What about the Slayer and Mr. Giles? They won't like it when they find out that we've abducted one of their own."   
  
The woman sighed. "Yes, and we had hoped that the Slayer would prove to be cooperative. It would be much easier if she sided with us of her own free will. And she still might, but their actions have forced our hand."   
  
"You mean..."   
  
"Yes, we've already placed Miss Summers and Mr. Giles in protective custody. Now we just have to find the other woman."   
  
Daemon looked at a file in his hand. "The Slayer's mother, according to this."   
  
"Yes, once we find her..."   
  
The voices trailed off as they turned a corner and walked out of earshot. But Joyce had heard enough. Once the coast was clear, she bolted out of the mansion and ran for the car. Apparently the lockdown hadn't been completed yet, or they thought she couldn't have gotten there so fast... No matter the reason, she made it to the car unaccosted.   
  
Jumping inside the vehicle, she quickly stuck the key in the ignition and got the car started. Before anyone could see what she was doing and stop her from escaping, Joyce stomped down on the gas pedal and crashed the car through the gates of the compound, heading for the nearest road that would get her back to the hotel. She knew that she had to let the others know what was going on. As much as Joyce hated leaving Buffy and the others in there, she knew that the only way she'd be any good to them would be as a free agent. They needed back up. And it was up to her to get them some.   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
"What've you got?"   
  
"A two of hearts."   
  
"A-ha!" Cordelia crowed triumphantly. "My 8 is higher. I win! Now it's your turn to tell me something truthful about your past, Oz."   
  
"Tell me again who's idea it was to play this silly game?"   
  
Cordelia scowled at the young man sitting across the table from her. "Don't you start with me, Oz. You were plenty happy to drag all the embarrassing details of my disastrous vacation in Kansas out of me when your card was higher." Cordelia's eyes narrowed. "And if *anyone* ever finds out about what happened while I was swimming alone in the pond with Patrick Goddard that summer, I will personally make sure that you die a thousand painful deaths!" Cordelia grinned wickedly.   
  
Oz shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "What am I supposed to say?"   
  
Cordelia shrugged. "I don't know. Um...," her eyes lit up as an idea struck her. "What if you tell me about your first love?"   
  
Oz blanched. "No... pick something else."   
  
"That's not the way the game works," Cordelia replied, wagging her finger at him. "I win, so I get to ask the question. And *you* have to answer it. You agreed to the rules yourself, and upheld them just fine when *I* was in the spotlight." She paused, and then added, "What can I say? Payback's a bitch! Now, tell me the story of your first love. And keep in mind, I want the whole story... who, what, when, where *and* why!"   
  
Oz fiddled with the card in his hand as his mind flew back into a past that he'd rather forget. But he could never forget it. It had shaped the person he was today. He sighed and glanced at Cordelia. A few days ago if someone told him he would have to bare his soul to the society queen of Sunnydale High, he would have rather faced down a rogue vampire... with his cast on! But somehow, after spending two days alone with her, she didn't seem so bad. Pushy, yes. Bitchy, sometimes. Self-centered, also sometimes. But he'd seen the grief on her face when she hadn't known he was looking. She had more layers than met the eye.   
  
He glanced down at the card again. And he was honor bound to tell his story. Honor might not mean much nowadays, but Oz was someone who took it seriously.   
  
"All bands have groupies. Even the Dingoes. Devon cultivates them. I did the groupie thing for awhile, too. It was a rush... those girls hanging on your every riff, wanting you to autograph them in... uh... interesting places. But when I met her, all that stopped. She was one of them. The mystery groupie who listened to all the songs with her soul, not just her ears. She was older than me. She rode a sweet motorcycle. Devon was wild about it, but she never gave him the time of day. She had long blonde hair that waved down to her waist. I could wrap both of my hands in it when she wore it loose. This one night we had a thing. She was so intense. I wanted her forever, but she left without a word after. I got so angry that I tracked her down..."   
  
His voice grated harshly and then trailed off. His eyes clouded with painful memories.   
  
Cordelia looked at him, worry coloring her face. She'd never heard him sound so emotional. This was more than she'd bargained for. She debated what to do. On the one hand, she was extremely interested. This was more than she'd ever learned about the reticent guy before. On the other hand, she didn't want to make him relive something this painful. Cordelia had only wanted some juicy details of a first kiss or something.   
  
Then again, on the other hand... er... foot, maybe he needed to talk about it. She wondered if he had ever talked about it, or if it had just been eating him up inside for all these years. Somehow, Cordelia got the vibe that he really needed to talk about it. Oprah had done that whole show on emotional wellness, and Cordelia figured that Oprah would tell the boy to let it out. But now he'd clamed up again. She stared at him as he sat in his chair just staring at the card in his hands with a frozen expression on his face. She wondered how to get him to tell her the rest of the story.   
  
Finally, she prodded him by asking, "Oz... what was her name?"   
  
Oz looked up. His haunted gaze made Cordelia wince. "Sky."   
  
"Sky..." That name sounded so familiar. Cordelia's heart sank when she realized where she'd heard it before. "You don't mean Sky Tuesday... do you?"   
  
Hearing her full name, Oz flinched. Cordelia could barely hear his reply. "Yeah."   
  
"But she... she died." Cordelia bit her lip as more of the story came back to her. "It was a long time ago, but I heard she had a fight with her boyfriend, got upset and got in a wreck."   
  
"That about covers it, except she didn't consider me her boyfriend, or so she said."   
  
"When you found her, what did you say?" Cordelia questioned. He was claming up again, and intuition, and Oprah, told her that this was not compatible with emotional wellness.   
  
"Sky was not a believer in commitment. She said what we had was great, but she couldn't be tied down... I'd never heard of that before. I thought if you loved someone, you committed. Then I realized that she was doing to me..."   
  
"What you had done to the other groupies?" Cordelia saw from the expression on his face that she was right. She ached to hug him, or comfort him or something, but she didn't know what to do.   
  
After a second, Oz continued talking, his voice rough with unshed tears. "I yelled at her. I still remember the words I used 'lying, no good, sleazy whore.' I even tried to give her money. I don't know what I thought that would prove... I'll never forget her face. She took off on her bike. I was pre-license, so I couldn't follow. The next thing I knew, I heard she was dead. She ran a stop sign and got flattened by a pickup..."   
  
Cordelia blanched at the graphic description. She couldn't help herself. She jumped up from her chair and crouched next to Oz's chair. She almost hugged him, but she still felt awkward. She began to realize that emotional wellness was much messier in real life as opposed to in theory or on TV. There was no staff psychiatrist here to help -- Cordelia was all on her own, and afraid she was about to screw up, if she hadn't already. But she kept going anyway. There was no backing out now.   
  
She laid a hand on Oz's arm and said, "You realize now, after all these years, that it wasn't your fault, right?"   
  
He knocked her hand away from him like it burned his skin. His card fluttered to the ground, forgotten and his eyes blazed on hers full of anger and self-hatred. "I tried to tell myself that! I said, 'Oz, you've paid your guilt dues, and now you've got a new group of friends to help.' I thought it... and Sonya... were my reward -- Fate showing me that life goes on! But now I know I'm wrong. I got emotional again, and the girl was taken away. Sonya could be dead! I got emotional with Sky and she's gone, and here goes history repeating itself, just in case I didn't get it the first time." His voice quieted down to a murmur so low Cordelia could hardly hear it. "I never should have let any of you in... never should have gotten emotionally involved..."   
  
"Daniel Osbourn!" Cordelia snapped suddenly, rising to her feet. "That is the biggest bunch of hogwash I've ever heard!"   
  
Oz looked at her in surprise.   
  
Cordelia didn't even take the time to think if this was what Oprah would do. She just said what was on her mind, tact be damned. If she'd had time to think, she might have second guessed herself, but the words were pouring out before she knew what she was doing.   
  
"People don't die because someone is emotionally involved with them! If that was true, we'd all be dead! Or most of us anyway. And Fate isn't out to get you. Sure, we can all find a way to blame ourselves for things. You can say 'If I hadn't yelled at her, she wouldn't have gotten in the wreck.' But maybe her parents are saying, 'If we hadn't let her get a motorcycle...' And the truck driver is saying, 'If only I had looked both ways just a little bit longer...' And I can say, 'If only I hadn't invited the stupid vampires into the room then Doyle and Sonya would still be here...'"   
  
Her chin started to tremble, and tears began to flow out of her eyes, leaving tracks of brown mascara on her cheeks. Turning away from Oz, she flung herself down on the bed and began to sob in earnest, letting loose the guilt she'd been harboring ever since the vampires had attacked her hotel room.   
  
Then she felt a hand stroking her back. She looked up, and saw Oz standing there on one leg, holding his cast out to the side. Tears were coming out of his eyes, too. "Room for me to sit?"   
  
Cordelia nodded, and sat up. Oz lowered himself down next to her. He leaned over to the bedside table and pulled two tissues out of the box. He handed one to Cordelia, and used the other himself. Cordelia began to scrub the mascara off of her cheeks.   
  
"I don't blame you for Sonya and Doyle," Oz said after a minute.   
  
Cordelia looked at him almost shyly. "Thanks. I guess I should learn to take my own medicine, huh?"   
  
A tiny smile curved Oz's lips. "Maybe so." He paused for a second, and then said, "Thanks for making me talk about this, Cordelia. It's been inside me for a long time. I guess it needed to come out."   
  
Cordelia gave him a brilliant smile. "Let's hear it for emotional wellness!" Oz gave her a confused look.   
  
Then there was a knock on the door.   
  
Having learned her lesson, Cordelia called, "Who's there?"   
  
"Front desk," came the feminine reply.   
  
Still cautious, Cordelia opened the door before she invited the person inside. It was a woman in a hotel uniform. She held out a sheaf of papers. "This fax came in for Mr. Rupert Giles from a Ms. Jenny Calendar in Sunnydale, California."   
  
"I'll give it to him," Cordelia said, taking the papers and setting them on the table, oblivious of the cards strewn everywhere. The woman turned and began walking toward the elevator. Cordelia kept an eye on her, just in case.   
  
When the elevator doors opened, Cordelia was surprised to see Joyce burst out of them, alone. Joyce ran down the hall and into the room. She was panting for breath.   
  
"What's wrong?" Oz asked, immediately on the alert.   
  
"Where's Buffy... and Xander and Giles?" Cordelia wanted to know as she shut the door.   
  
After taking in a few gulps of air, Joyce said, "We've got to get our stuff and get out of here. It's not safe. I've got a good head start on them, but I don't know how much..."   
  
"What happened?" Cordelia asked, worry filling her newly cleansed emotional palate. If Buffy the super hero was down, what would happen to them?   
  
"No time," Joyce answered sharply. "Cordelia, start packing the bags in here, I'll go in the other room. Oz, call down to the desk and tell them to send bell hops. We're checking out."   
  
"Where will we go?" Oz asked, already reaching for the telephone.   
  
Joyce shook her head. "I have no idea."   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
Sunnydale   
  
The industrial part of town seemed deserted at this late hour, but Angel knew better. Abandoned factories and warehouses made the perfect hideouts for anything from homeless humans to renegade vampires and demons.   
  
Angel glanced back at Terrance who was trailing along behind him. "You OK back there?"   
  
Terrance glared at Angel. "I'm fine. I'm just covering your back. Standard operating procedure, or at least where I'm from."   
  
"Whatever." Angel shrugged. He really didn't care what the annoying kid was doing, as long as he wasn't getting in Angel's way or slowing Angel down.   
  
"So, how are we going to find this Kun'gi anyway?" Terrance demanded suddenly. "Are we just going to sweep this whole part of town? That could take hours with just the two of us. And there are a lot of places he could be hiding."   
  
"I have a feeling that this is not the type of demon that hides," Angel replied, refusing to give Terrance the satisfaction of a glare. "Besides, I'm picking up an odd odor -- nothing like the normal Sunnydale demonic scents. I think I'm on the Kun'gi's trail."   
  
Terrance didn't say anything. Angel didn't attempt to elicit a response. The two just continued walking a little bit faster.   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
"This is the most unorganized mission I've ever been on," Rio grumbled into the darkness. The three commandos stood in a dark alley in downtown Sunnydale. One of last night's "wild dog" attacks had taken place not far from the alley, so Faith had decided to try a stakeout.   
  
Faith shot him a glare. "Shut up, Rio. There is a bit more to the Hellmouth than we thought at first. Things may not be running as usual, but it's at least 4-by-4."   
  
Rio rolled his eyes at that comment, but kept his face averted from her so his commander couldn't see the disrespect.   
  
"Faith," Nicole said suddenly, "I thought I saw a vampire go into that building over there." She pointed to a small bar and grill next door. "He had that undead look about him. I know we're supposed to be looking for ferals, but..."   
  
"We can't let that go," Faith finished. "You're right." She glanced at Rio. "You stay here, and signal with the radio if you see anything suspicious." Nodding at Nicole, she added, "We'll go in and flush out that sucker."   
  
Faith stepped out onto the sidewalk and missed the strange look Rio gave Nicole. She was almost at the door of the bar and grill when she paused to look at Nicole in the neon light of the sign. It could have been the bad lighting, but Nicole looked a bit pale. "Hey, Nick," Faith said with a flash of concern. "You all right? You look like you forgot to put on your makeup or something."   
  
Nicole glanced at Faith quickly. "No. I am fine. I just didn't sleep very much last night. We were quite worried about you."   
  
The mention of last night brought up memories and a guilt trip Faith did not want to deal with. She didn't know how to react to what had happened between her and Angel. He was a vampire. She was dedicated to the destruction of vampires. Sure, he had a soul, but it still seemed somehow wrong. Except for the moments when she was in his arms. Then it seemed more right than anyone she'd ever been with before. Faith didn't know what Angel thought about their night, either -- but judging from what she knew about him, the guy would either want to forget he'd ever had such a lapse in morals, or propose. And Faith was definitely not on the market in that serious sense.   
  
When she'd seen him tonight, it had really freaked her out. She wasn't used to this. Normally, when she had a fling with a guy, she never saw him again. Usually, she never thought about them again, but for some reason she couldn't get Angel out of her head. It was weird! And there were so many other issues. If her superiors back in England found out she'd had a fling with a vampire... well, Faith knew the phrase "major hissy fit" would be an understatement. And she would have to call and report in soon. Faith was just glad she'd managed to avoid spending the whole night patrolling with Angel. She'd needed the time to get herself together. Unbidden, her mind flashed again to those sensuous hours in Angel's apartment. Even though she'd still been half smashed, Faith remembered the during part, and it gave her a delicious shiver. So many years on Earth had definitely given Angel an edge over human guys.   
  
"Faith?"   
  
The brunette realized Nicole was looking at her strangely.   
  
"Are you all right?" Nicole asked.   
  
"Let's go," Faith replied brusquely, pushing all thoughts of Angel out of her head to deal with later, much later. Then she walked past Nicole and into the building.   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
Angel paused in front of a door to an abandoned warehouse. "Typical," he muttered. "They all think we'll never find them in a place like this. If they really wanted to hide, they'd rent a room at the Motel 6. That's a place I'd never think to look for a demon."   
  
"Are you sure this is the place?" Terrance asked, interrupting Angel's train of thought.   
  
"Yes!" Angel couldn't keep the frustration out of his tone.   
  
Obviously, the vampire's tone irritated Terrance. But then everything Angel did seemed to irritate Terrance.   
  
"Do you have a plan, then?" Terrance asked. "Or shall we just barge in and ask the demon if he's killed anyone recently?"   
  
Angel slid Terrance a telling glance, but only said, "Just stick to procedure and cover me."   
  
With that, Angel reached out and opened the front door. Its hinges protested with a loud screech. Angel shook his head. So much for the silent approach! Then he strode into the building, ready for anything. Terrance followed a pace or two behind, his finger on the trigger of his crossbow.   
  
"You realize this isn't a vampire, don't you?" Angel asked as he scanned the main building. His eyes landed on a pile of blankets and an old mattress in a corner. Some other things were scattered around as well. Mostly clothes. (The wardrobe of his victims, perhaps?) Angel wondered.   
  
"Yes, well, being stabbed through the heart will kill many things," Terrance replied. He, too, looked around, waiting for something to happen.   
  
Angel walked over to the mattress, keeping his eyes peeled for any sign of the Kun'gi. Suddenly, Terrance shouted, "Duck!" and Angel heard the unmistakable sound of a crossbow firing. Angel ducked and then looked around to see a very angry Kun'gi demon with a crossbow bolt protruding from his shoulder. The Kun'gi growled low in his throat and lunged for Terrance.   
  
The Englishman had succeeded in re-loading his weapon, but the Kun'gi batted it out of Terrance's hands. The crossbow went clattering across the floor. The demon punched Terrance in the face several times, bloodying the kid's nose and splitting his lip. Terrance struggled, but with the Kun'gi on top of him, there was nothing he could do physically to save himself. Angel ran to the struggling duo. He grabbed the Kun'gi by the collar of his Hawaiian shirt and pulled him off of Terrance just as a huge board the telekinetic had lifted crashed into the demon. Once he was free, Terrance immediately began moving for his crossbow.   
  
Angel stared at the Kun'gi suddenly realizing that it was wearing clothing over it's green, slimy body. The tack horn protruding from the middle of its forehead was smaller than Angel might have thought. Angel realized that something odd was going on here. The Kun'gi stood up and brushed himself off, rubbing his head and glaring at Terrance. It growled and spouted some words at Angel in a language the vampire didn't understand, but it did not attack them again. Then Angel heard the sound of Terrance readying the crossbow to fire.   
  
"Wait!" Angel said suddenly, throwing up a hand of caution in Terrance's direction. "There's something off here. Why isn't it attacking if it's a bloodthirsty demon?"   
  
"Does it matter?" Terrance demanded, spitting blood onto the floor. "It's a demon, and all demons deserve to be sent back to Hell. Now, get out of my way, Angel." He aimed the crossbow at the Kun'gi, which stood directly behind Angel.   
  
"Excuse me, but can you understand me now?"   
  
Both men looked in shock at the demon in the loud Hawaiian shirt. The purples and oranges in the shirt clashed with the Kun'gi's skin tones. It had pulled the crossbow bolt out of its shoulder, and that part of the shirt was now stained greenish-yellow from the demon's blood.   
  
When it saw that it had their attention, the Kun'gi began speaking again in perfectly comprehensible English. "You surprised me, and I forgot that you probably don't understand my native tongue. But I do know English. Now, will you please tell me why you attacked me unprovoked?"   
  
"Because we destroy all the Hellmouth-spawned demons who murder the innocents of Sunnydale," Terrance replied, watching the Kun'gi through the site on his crossbow.   
  
"I do believe you are mistaken," the demon replied. "I have not killed anyone. I'm just here on vacation. I wanted to see the Hellmouth with my own eyes, so I can tell my grandkids about it. I'm leaving tomorrow."   
  
Making sure to stay in the path of the boy's weapon, Angel turned to the Kun'gi. "Several citizens of Sunnydale were killed last night, and it appeared to be the attack of a Kun'gi. Their life essence was sucked out of them, leaving them a black husk inside their clothing. Doesn't your tack horn do that?" It seemed odd to Angel that he was sitting here conversing in such a civilized manner with a demon, but stranger things had happened in Sunnydale.   
  
The Kun'gi reached up and fingered his tack horn with what looked to be an expression of surprise on his face. "Yes, that is what happens when a Kun'gi uses its horn to drain another being's life force, but I certainly didn't do that. Some of my distant relatives devote themselves to a life of destruction, but I belong to a sect of Enlightened Kun'gi. We are pacifists. We don't even eat meat."   
  
"Vegetarian demons?" Terrance said in a snide tone. "Get out of the way, Angel. He's trying to trick us. Let me take him down."   
  
"No!" Angel barked, obeying his instincts and not moving an inch. To the Kun'gi, he said, "Could one of your relatives be in town killing people?"   
  
The demon shook his head. "I'd be able to sense it if one of my brethren were here. But tack horns aren't the only thing that can suck the life essence in that way. There are spells and other demons who can do the same thing with similar results. And, I assure you, whoever killed those innocent people last night, it was not me." The Kun'gi stepped forward and extended a hand for Angel to shake. "My name is Roger, by the way. And you must be Angel, the vampire with a soul I've heard so much about in stories of the Hellmouth."   
  
Before Angel could decide what to do, Roger had grabbed his hand, and suddenly a plethora of images pounded through Angel's brain. He saw everything that had happened on Roger's trip to Sunnydale, including a night visit to the high school library where the Hellmouth opened, Roger snapping pictures with a disposable camera, Roger at Willie's and more. The sequence ended with Roger being impaled by the crossbow bolt, and him attacking Terrance in self defense.   
  
When Roger let go of Angel's hand, he gave the vampire an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry about that. I know it must have been a shock, but I had to let you know the truth."   
  
"How... how did you do that?" Angel asked.   
  
"When my kind gave up killing, we worked on developing our less destructive, latent powers, including telepathy." Roger walked over to his mattress, thrust his clothes into a suitcase, and picked it up. "You know, I think I will go ahead and leave now. I've seen all of the Hellmouth that I need to."   
  
"Don't move!" Terrance yelled, tracking the demon with his crossbow.   
  
"Wait!" Angel yelled. "He's telling the truth!"   
  
But Terrance wasn't listening. He had a clear shot, and let the bolt loose. Roger looked up in surprise. Angel dived toward the demon, knocking him out of the way. Roger's suitcase fell to the ground with a loud thump. The bolt embedded itself in Angel's chest. A huge, metal beam swooped toward Roger, but the demon ducked and sprang at Terrance before the boy could toss or shoot anything else at him. Roger punched the boy hard, knocking him unconscious. Then the Kun'gi turned back, expecting to see a huge pile of dust where the vampire had been.   
  
But Angel was still there, moaning in pain. Roger hurried to help the vampire to his feet. "I thought the lad hit you."   
  
"He did," Angel groaned. He pulled back his trench coat to reveal the crossbow bolt sticking out of his chest, right in the middle. "He missed the heart."   
  
Roger gripped the end of the bolt and pulled it out in with one strong tug. Angel grunted, but once the wood was out of his body, he began to feel better and his preternatural healing factor kicked in. "Thanks. I guess I'm lucky he wasn't aiming at me."   
  
Roger slanted a glance from the unconscious Terrance to Angel. "It may not seem like he was aiming at you, but..."   
  
"What do you mean?" Angel asked when Roger's words trailed off.   
  
After a second's hesitation, Roger answered, "Well, I just don't get good thoughts from him about you. That one is dark inside."   
  
Angel shook his head. "No. The two of us don't get along because he can't get used to fighting with a vampire. He was trained to kill vampires, soul or not, and so our partnership irks him. But he wouldn't try to kill me on purpose."   
  
Roger shrugged. "If you say so. I'm better at projecting than receiving telepathic images, and that one has strong barriers. But I'd look out for him if I were you, and anyone he associates with."   
  
Then the demon picked up his suitcase, opened it and pulled out a notebook and a pen. "Can you do me one favor before I go? Give me an autograph for my little granddaughter? She will be so thrilled. The only one she'd like better is the Slayer's autograph, but I haven't seen Miss Summers around town."   
  
Angel looked at Roger in surprise, but obligingly scribbled his signature on the proffered piece of paper. "You guys sure know a lot about what's going on over here."   
  
Roger shrugged and put the paper back into his suitcase, shutting the bag with a loud snap. "Everyone has to have a hobby. We're Hellmouth groupies... what can I say? You all do good work, and it helps all of us non-violent demons." Roger turned and began walking out of the warehouse. "Thanks again, Angel. And good luck!"   
  
Angel watched Roger leave, still reeling from the surrealness of it all. Then he walked over and scooped Terrance up into his arms and walked out of the building.   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
At the bar and grill, Faith and Nicole fanned out, searching the room for the suspected vampire. Faith perched on a barstool, scanning the other patrons with a practiced eye.   
  
"Hey, baby. What's your sign?"   
  
Faith looked at the originator of that lame come-on. He was a normal, though slightly drunk, human male. He had brown hair and a mustache. He wore slacks, a white shirt with several buttons undone and a jacket. A thick gold chain circled his thick neck and a matching bracelet circled his wrist. Faith lifted an eyebrow at him, wondering why such a sad looking specimen of a man would think he had any chance with her.   
  
"Buzz off, man! I'm here on business," she told him unceremoniously.   
  
"I bet I could make you ferget that business," the man replied with a leer as he ogled her breasts under the black spandex.   
  
"Not interested." Faith gave him a not-so-gentle shove to the shoulder.   
  
The guy frown at her, but took the hint and walked off toward the bathrooms in the back muttering, "Fine, I needed some air anyway."   
  
Glad to be rid of the guy, Faith stood up and began a slow circuit of the building. Half of the place was a bar, and the other half was filled with tables of people having a very late dinner. Noise from several televisions filtered through the restaurant. Faith circled the place twice, but saw no one who could pass for a vampire.   
  
"Nicole needs a refresher course in vamp spotting," Faith muttered, finally giving up and walking towards the door. As soon as her feet hit the sidewalk, she saw Rio standing out in the open. Faith strode over to him angrily and demanded, "What are you doing out here? You're supposed to be on surveillance!"   
  
"I got worried, Faith! You were gone so long..." Rio glanced back at the alley, and then added, "I was about to come in and find you, Faith."   
  
"Shh!" Faith hissed, grabbing him by the sleeve and hauling him back toward the alley. "Not so loud with the names, stealth boy! Is Nicole back yet?"   
  
"No," Rio said in a surprised tone. "I thought she was in there with you tracking the vampire."   
  
"There wasn't any vamp, at least not that I saw," Faith answered. "I thought she'd come back out here."   
  
They rounded the corner and Faith caught a glimpse of a familiar strawberry blonde head crouched down over something Faith couldn't see.   
  
"Nicole!" Rio exclaimed, rushing to her side. He gave her a hand up, and a flushed and sweating Nicole met Faith's eyes with an expression of regret covering something else, some kind of excitement.   
  
"Report!" Faith ordered. She stepped forward and looked down. The commando leader's face didn't change when her eyes fell on the charred body laying on the alley floor at Nicole's feet. Faith had been schooled not to reveal any feelings, especially not to her subordinates. Then something shiny caught her eye. Faith stooped down for a better look and saw a thick, golden chain around the half-melted neck. A glance at the bracelet around the charred wrist confirmed the mystery body's identity.   
  
Faith put a hand to her mouth to repress an involuntary gag reflex. She'd spoken to this guy no more than fifteen minutes ago, and now he was dead! Her eyes narrowed on the silent Nicole. "What happened?"   
  
"It was the Kun'gi," Nicole said quickly. She pointed to the wall at the end of the alley. "I came out here looking for the vampire, and the Kun'gi was feeding off of this guy. I surprised him before he got done, but it was too strong. It pushed me down and vaulted over the wall before I could do anything."   
  
Rio gripped Nicole's arm. "Then you came over here to see if he was alive?"   
  
"Yes, but, as you can see, there's no way..."   
  
"Are you all right?" Rio asked, examining her closely.   
  
"Yes, I am fine. But the Kun'gi..."   
  
"Is long gone by now!" Faith spat suddenly. She kicked a nearby trashcan, leaving a huge dent in its side. "And so is the vampire, I assume."   
  
"Do you want me to... dispose of the body?" Nicole asked.   
  
"She's right," Rio added. "What are the police going to do with another victim like this? Nothing helpful."   
  
"They'll just get in our way, and ask questions about things they can't hope to handle," Nicole added, pushing strands of sweaty hair off of her forehead.   
  
Faith agreed, and nodded her assent to Nicole. The fire-wielder extended her hands, and the body, and it's clothes, burst into flame. The magically-hot blaze lasted for a few seconds, and then Nicole dropped her hands and the flames extinguished themselves, leaving nothing behind of the man except a few molten hunks of gold.   
  
"Come on," Faith snapped when the deed was done. "Let's go. There's more patroling to do."   
  
"Aren't we going to report to the others about this new attack?" Rio asked, avoiding a look from Nicole.   
  
Faith shook her head, still angry at herself for missing the attack. Maybe she could have done something, then Angel would have seen that she could handle a Kun'gi, but now the creature was long gone, someone else was dead and there was nothing she could do about it.   
  
"Leave that up to me!" she ordered, her voice harsh. She didn't look at either of them. Faith wished she could just be alone, somewhere that she wouldn't have to deal with Nicole, Rio and all their questions and ideas. Then she started walking, and Nicole and Rio fell in behind her.   
  
When they were long gone, something moved in the empty alley, also beating a quick retreat.   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
She stood before her mirror, knowing exactly what she would see there if she still had a reflection. Long, graceful limbs extending out of a white, flowing gown; a swan-like neck that had gotten many compliments in its day, revealed by white-blonde hair swept up in a crown on top of her head, a few loose curls framing her face; deep, indigo eyes that could see more than anyone suspected; sultry, red lips covering pearly teeth and the occasional fang. But the huge, beveled glass before her remained empty, making her wonder if she was really there at all.   
  
Then a loud noise broke her concentration. She looked around to see her favorite pet loping into the room.   
  
"Jaques," she said, rewarding the creature with a smile. "What have you learned for me, my dear one?"   
  
Jaques the feral vampire walked up to his mistress and crouched at her feet. She put her hand on the top of his head and a golden glow enveloped them both. Her eyes widened and she laughed with delight.   
  
The glow faded, and she gave Jaques his treat. As the feral lapped up the bowl of blood, she watched, the smile lingering on her crimson lips.   
  
"Imagine that, Jaques. Who ever would have guessed? Now, the question is, how can I use this to my advantage?"   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
As soon as they got out of the industrial area, Angel hailed a cab and thrust the unconscious Terrance inside. Then he leaned toward the driver and handed him a wad of cash and gave the man directions to the commandos' motel.   
  
"If he's not awake by then, ask the manager what room he's in," Angel said. "The money should more than cover your extra trouble."   
  
The driver's face brightened as he thumbed through the generous pile of bills. "No problem, man, but what happened to him?"   
  
Angel glanced at Terrance, and an evil smile crossed his face. "His girlfriend really decked him hard. Messy breakup."   
  
The driver looked a bit confused, but Angel didn't really care. He slammed the door, and watched the cab drive away. Then he began walking back toward his apartment. It was time to pack it in, but he might as well patrol on his way home.   
  
As he walked, he pulled out his cell phone and dialed the condo to check in one last time. When Jenny answered, he asked, "How did things go there? Were you able to get Giles what he needed?"   
  
"Yes," Jenny said. "It took us awhile, but Amy and I finished everything. The fax went out just a few minutes ago."   
  
"Have you heard anything from Faith's group?" Angel asked next.   
  
"No," Jenny replied. "Did you find anything?"   
  
"More questions than answers," Angel replied. Quickly, he summarized what had happened with Roger, then he said, "There is no way that Kun'gi killed those people. Can you do some research into what else could have done it?"   
  
Jenny sighed. "I'll get on it, and hopefully have some answers by tomorrow night."   
  
"I'll see you at the condo at sunset," Angel said, and then hung up.   
  
The rest of his walk passed with no problems. He kept his eyes peeled for ferals, normal vampires or even the other commandos, but found nothing. When he got back to his apartment, Angel was glad. For reasons he didn't want to think about again, he hadn't gotten much sleep the night before, and bed looked pretty appealing. He unlocked his door and stepped inside.   
  
Suddenly, he realized he wasn't alone. His enhanced senses picked up another presence. A familiar one. Angel reached out and flipped the light switch. Soft wattage illuminated the room without being too harsh on the eyes. He saw a form huddled in his bed, on top of his maroon bed spread.   
  
"Faith?" he said incredulously, walking over and sitting down on the side of the bed.   
  
She slowly opened her eyes and looked up at him. "I didn't have anywhere else to go." She sat up and started to swing her legs over the side of the bed.   
  
Angel put his hand on her shoulder, keeping her next to him. "What's wrong?"   
  
Faith turned her head away. "Something happened... I just had to get away."   
  
"What happened?" Angel urged, wondering what had shaken the unflappable commando leader.   
  
"Has there ever been anybody you couldn't save?" she asked abruptly.   
  
"Of course," Angel replied automatically. "That happens to us all, sooner or later. It's hard, but nobody can be Superman all the time."   
  
Faith sighed deeply, her breath shuddering in her chest. "I just..." A tear slipped from the corner of her eye. Followed by another, and another.   
  
Worried now, Angel moved closer to her on the bed. "Are you OK?"   
  
She jerked out of his grasp. "I'm fine! Don't you pity me, Angel!" But there were still tears, no matter how many times her angry fist dashed them away.   
  
Angel leaned over and stilled her hand. "I don't pity you. I just want to help..."   
  
Faith turned to glare at him, and suddenly there were only inches between their faces. She put her hands on his shoulders to push him away, but then she grabbed him by the shirt, pulled him forward and kissed him. The kiss was hard and punishing, and even, Angel thought, somewhat desperate. But still arousing. It took him a minute, but then Angel finally managed to push her away.   
  
"What are you doing, Faith?" he demanded.   
  
"If you can't figure that out, then there really is no hope for you, Mr. Stick-in-the-Mud?" Her earlier expression had faded, leaving in its place a sultry half-smile.   
  
Angel just looked at her for a minute, trying to figure out what was going on inside her head. But before he could come to any concrete conclusions, Faith leaned forward and kissed him again. This kiss was softer, more playful. She nipped his lip with her teeth and pulled back.   
  
"You don't really want me to stop, do you?" Her fingers began to slowly unbutton his red silk shirt, pausing every now and then to slip under the soft fabric and glide over his exposed skin, sending chills down Angel's spine.   
  
"Not really...," Angel murmured, "but..." Part of him protested that something more was going on here, but then Faith began pressing warm kisses down his chest as she tugged his shirt free of his belt and he lost his train of thought. Reining in his hormones as best he could, Angel tried one last time to get Faith to slow down. "But don't you think we should..."   
  
"No," Faith replied simply. "I don't." Then she maneuvered herself so she was sitting on his lap and kissed him. Dropping his shirt on the floor next to the bed, Faith's fingers moved to Angel's belt buckle as her lips continued to duel with his. Angel gripped her shoulders firmly and pulled her closer to him, leaving the last of his reservations behind. As his fingers wound their way into her thick, mahogany hair, Angel promised himself with his last coherent thought that he would talk to Faith about what was bothering her later. (It can wait until the morning...) 


	17. Chapter 16

In the Space of a Journey  
Chapter Sixteen   
  
England -- The Compound   
  
Xander opened his eyes and found himself in unfamiliar surroundings. He was laying in a bed, covered by a green velour spread. The pillow under his head and the mattress under his body were stuffed with feathers. He knew he wasn't in the hotel. He searched his memory for the last thing that had happened, and then he remembered the chase through the bowels of the Compound ending when the girl with the blue eyes hypnotized him and someone zapped him from behind.   
  
He tested his muscles, and found himself sore, but not too badly damaged. Then he sat up and looked around. There was a lamp next to his bed, and he turned it on. Soft light filled the room. Xander saw that all the furniture was made of thick, carved wood and covered with well-made tapestry or soft fabrics, all the same, deep shade of green as the bed spread, or a complimentary color. He also saw a bed, a dresser, a nightstand, and a door which, when he got out of bed, he discovered led to an old fashioned, but very functional, bathroom.   
  
Xander took care of some business, washed his face and hands, and then went back into the bedroom. He walked over to the window, and pulled back the curtain. Looking out, he saw that night had fallen in England. He couldn't see much, but he could tell that he was on an upper floor.   
  
"I must still be in the Compound," Xander told himself. "There's no other place with this many antiques." But what he really wondered was why he hadn't been locked in the underground chambers with Doyle.   
  
Xander tried the window. Of course, it was locked. And there wasn't a balcony or a ledge, or anything to facilitate an escape that way, if he dared to try it. Then he walked over to the door. It was locked, too.   
  
"Of course!" Xander searched the room, but could find no way out of his richly appointed prison, so he flopped back down on the bed.   
  
"I hope Joyce got out all right," he whispered, feeling sleep creeping back over him. Blue Eyes must've taken more out of him than he'd realized. "And Buffy... I hope you're all right. I know you'll find me..." Soon, Xander was fast asleep again.   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
Sunnydale -- Angel's Apartment   
  
It was midmorning when Angel opened his eyes. He stretched his arms and touched something warm. Angel turned and saw Faith fast asleep next to him. One bare shoulder peeked above the maroon blanket.   
  
(At least she stayed this time) Angel thought. He wondered if he should wake her.   
  
Then Faith opened her eyes and stared right into his. Under the leftover haze of sleep, she smiled at him. Then her expression changed to one of confusion, and then realization set in. Her face hardened, and she sat up, clutching the covers around her chest.   
  
Angel sat up, too. "You're still here."   
  
"I slept too well," Faith answered, rubbing her eyes a little. "Forgot where I was."   
  
"That could be dangerous in your line of work," Angel replied.   
  
"Yours, too," Faith returned. Then their conversation trickled off into awkward silence.   
  
"Now what?" Angel finally asked.   
  
Faith reached for her clothes and started to dress. Angel reached for his robe and put it on.   
  
"I'm going home," Faith said brusquely.   
  
"Wait," Angel said, stilling her hand before she could get her boots on. "You never told me what happened last night that got you so upset. Is there anything I can do to help?"   
  
Faith pulled away from him. "There's nothing you can do. You were right, that's all. We didn't stand a chance against the Kun'gi. It attacked someone right under my nose, and I missed it. It ran away before I even got there."   
  
Angel's gaze went from concerned to confused. "When was that?"   
  
"Well, I don't remember the exact second. Looking at my watch wasn't exactly top priority," Faith snapped. Then she relented a little bit and added, "It was towards the end of our patrol. Nicole was kind of shaken up, so Rio and I took her back to the motel, then I came over here."   
  
"But, it's not possible that the Kun'gi could have attacked someone then," Angel protested, estimating the time from Faith's description. "Besides the fact that Roger is a pacifist, he was with me about then."   
  
"Roger?" Faith raised a questioning eyebrow.   
  
Quickly, Angel filled Faith in on the confrontation with the pacifist Kun'gi. He didn't leave anything out -- Roger's visions, Terrance's cross bow bolts and resulting unconsciousness, etc. In fact, the only thing Angel edited from his story was Roger's belief that Terrance wasn't on the up-and-up. Angel didn't know what he thought about that, but he did know that Faith wouldn't take kindly to the idea. He looked closely at her. Her face was drawn in concentration.   
  
"You're right," she agreed, surprisingly without a fight. "If you're telling the truth, then there is no way that guy from the bar was killed by the Kun'gi. Unless there are more than one..."   
  
Angel shook his head. "Roger said he can sense others of his kind, and that he was the only one in town. And Willy only mentioned one Kun'gi, too. Jenny is researching what or who else can drain life force like that."   
  
He watched Faith, waiting for the usual explosion. But it didn't come.   
  
"What are you thinking?" Angel asked, wondering if they were thinking the same thing for once. He was thinking about Nicole crouched over a body, and then lying to place the blame on a murderous Kun'gi who did not exist. Compound that with Roger's comments about Terrance, and some suspicions had definitely started to form in Angel's mind. But he didn't want to say that to Faith, unless she'd come to the same conclusion herself. Angel had no guarantee that she would take his side instead of supporting her troops. Even their nocturnal activities seemed to mean nothing to Faith.   
  
"I... I don't know," Faith admitted. "But there's definitely something odd going on here." She stood up. "I've got to get back to the motel and talk with Nicole. Maybe she was wrong. She's never seen a Kun'gi before..." She shoved her feet in her boots and headed for the door.   
  
Angel jumped up and grabbed her elbow. "Do you want help? I'll come with you."   
  
Faith glanced at his windows where sunlight tinted the dark window shade.   
  
"There are old tunnels that run all over Sunnydale," Angel explained.   
  
"I don't want you to come," Faith said bluntly. "I'll get to the bottom of this myself." Then she left. After she was gone, Angel walked over to the phone to call Jenny and apprise her of this latest development.   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
England -- the Compound   
  
The proconsul's office had to be the most opulent in the Compound. Buffy looked around with a little awe. There were more antiques and velvet coverings in here than anywhere else. The paintings on the wall looked familiar -- like she should recognize them from art class. And the crystal decanter and glasses on a table near the wall looked like that expensive crystal her mother always admired. She could smell the scent of old cigar smoke, probably Cubans.   
  
She and Giles sat in the least comfortable chairs in the office, right in front of Chamberlain's desk. They'd been in there for a long time, waiting for their audience with the man in charge. He now sat behind the desk, with Gwendolyn and Marcus on either side of him, giving them a "concerned, yet disappointed" look.   
  
"Mr. Giles, Miss Summers," Chamberlain said in a sad tone, "why did you have to betray our trust like this? Yes, we have our disagreements, but the tribunal was supposed to solve that without such shenanigans. Why did you send your friends into forbidden areas?"   
  
Giles gave the proconsul an impassive stare. "First of all, this plan was entirely mine. Buffy had nothing to do with it. Second of all, what have you done with Xander and Mrs. Summers?"   
  
Chamberlain glanced at Marcus, who leaned down and whispered in his ear. Gwendolyn was distracted, looking at the two men. Giles took that moment to pass Buffy a folded piece of paper. Buffy stuffed the note into the waistband of her sweats, and tried to look casual as the Watchers turned back to face them. She glanced up and met Gwendolyn's gaze. For a second, Buffy thought she was caught, but the woman didn't say anything, so Buffy decided that Gwendolyn had missed the clandestine exchange.   
  
"We detained the boy, and let the woman go," Chamberlain told them calmly, after conferring with Marcus.   
  
"Can I see Xander?" Buffy asked. The question earned her stern looks from every Watcher in the room.   
  
"No, my dear," the proconsul said. The sad tone was back again. "He got into something he shouldn't have. Our doctors are working on him, but it may be a lost cause."   
  
Buffy's eyes widened and began to fill with tears. Xander was dying? She looked at Giles. Her Watcher gazed right back at her and shook his head slightly. Buffy got his meaning. He thought that the proconsul was lying. Buffy stifled her fear and worry for her boyfriend and sat back in her chair.   
  
"What are you going to do with us?" Giles demanded. "We have the right to know."   
  
"You're under house arrest," Chamberlain told them. "Mr. Giles, you will be confined to your room until the tribunal resumes. Only Mr. Wyndham-Price can visit you." Then he turned to Buffy. "You, Miss Summers, are confined to the grounds. I know that seems harsh, but it is for your own good. Remember, you are not being punished. This is just a precaution we must take if a Slayer is found to have a dishonest, unworthy Watcher. We must make sure your training has not been compromised beyond repair... if Mr. Giles is found guilty, of course."   
  
"Of course," Giles echoed, unsurprised. "The verdict would never be decided on without a fair trial, would it?"   
  
"Never, Mr. Giles," the proconsul assured him.   
  
Buffy schooled her face to reveal none of her emotions: not the horror she felt having to stay at the Compound, not the agony she felt wondering what had become of Xander and her mother, not the fear she felt for Giles, who seemed about to be burned at the stake for things the Council didn't understand. There was one thing she was glad of. It seemed that the Council might be willing to believe in her. Perhaps her celebrity-like status as Slayer would pay off, if they were inclined to trust her. She knew that no matter how badly she felt for Giles and the others, that right now she had to play her part and not let on that she'd rather disown the Council than to help them in this situation.   
  
Glancing at the window, and noting how dark it was, Buffy gave Chamberlain a cold look. "Are we done here, sir? It's long past the dinner hour, and I'm starving. I did fight two vamps today..."   
  
"Yes, you did, Buffy," Chamberlain said, his lips curving into a smile. "And you did it quite successfully." He glanced at Gwendolyn, giving his second-in-command the authority to deal with this.   
  
"Come, Buffy," Gwendolyn said with a smile. "Let's find you something to eat."   
  
Without a word or a look at Giles, Buffy stood and follwed Gwendolyn from the room.   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
England -- A Shopping District   
  
A cab pulled up in front of a small shop. It was the only shop on the street still lighted. That had something to do with a phone call Joyce had made before leaving the hotel. She clutched the sheaf of papers from Jenny to her chest as the vehicle came to a complete stop.   
  
"Need me to wait, Ma'am?" the cabby asked as Joyce opened the door.   
  
She shook her head. "No, that won't be necessary, but you could help us carry up our luggage." He popped the trunk for her, and she grabbed three bags. To Cordelia, in the back seat next to Oz, Joyce said, "Can you help him out and get the rest of the bags."   
  
The unusually subdued Cordelia nodded and started following orders with the cabbie's help, while Joyce went up to the door of the shop and knocked. The door opened and a tall, thin man with a dramatic shock of black hair and vivid blue eyes stared out at her.   
  
"Joyce Summers?" he asked in a cultured British accent.   
  
Joyce nodded. From behind, she heard the cab pull away and Cordelia walk up with the last of the luggage and Oz and his crutches.   
  
"Come in." The man opened the door wider, and helped them with the bags. They walked into a small magic shop, full of the usual paraphernalia -- crystals, herbs and whatnot. They followed him through a door in the back and into a large workroom.   
  
Oz stared at the man, a confused expression on his face.   
  
Cordelia looked at Joyce. "Do you know this guy?"   
  
As they set down all the luggage, the man turned and extended a hand to Cordelia. "My name is Nigel Goring. I'm an old ... acquaintance of Buffy Summers and Jenny Calendar. When I got word that Mrs. Summers and her charges needed help, I couldn't refuse."   
  
Joyce flashed him a quick smile. "Please, call me Joyce. You're doing us a huge favor, so we should at least be on a first name basis."   
  
"I owe your daughter my life," Nigel replied. "Anything I can do for you, I will."   
  
"Nigel Goring," Oz repeated incredulously. "You were the host body for Nathan. I didn't realize you were still..."   
  
Nigel nodded. "Yes, once the Nathan spirit was expelled from my body, I retained my original soul and also my powers."   
  
"So, you're a witch?" Cordelia asked.   
  
"A warlock," Nigel corrected her. "And I've been in contact with Ms. Calendar. She explained the plan to me." He held out his hands and Joyce gave him the fax papers. Then he glanced at Oz and Cordelia in consideration. "I think it will work, but the broken leg makes it difficult."   
  
"Wait a minute. What's going on?" Oz asked.   
  
Joyce sighed. "I'm not really sure of all the details. I called Jenny when we were at the hotel, and she said to come here. She said she would call Nigel and explain things."   
  
"I just got off the phone with Ms. Calendar," Nigel repeated as confirmation. He flipped through the sheaf of papers and pulled out several from the middle. "Ah, yes. This is the derivation I need." He looked at Cordelia and Oz. "Get up on those tables."   
  
There were two tables, long, black affairs that looked like they'd been stolen from a doctor's office. Joyce helped Oz up on one of them, and Cordelia hopped up on the other. Nigel gathered some magic paraphernalia and walked over between the tables. He set everything down but a purple leaf. It looked almost like the leaf from a palm tree, except for the color. "Are you two ready?"   
  
Cordelia jumped up and scooted away from the leaf. "No way! You are not performing any kind of mumbo-jumbo on me until I know exactly what is going on!"   
  
"Ditto," Oz replied, glaring at Nigel and remembering some of the evil spells the man had performed in the past. Admittedly, Nigel hadn't been himself, but Oz was still worried.   
  
Joyce looked at her charges with a sad expression. "You two have to save the world. This spell should give you a fighting chance to infiltrate the Compound and rescue everybody."   
  
"Why don't you do it?" Cordelia asked. "You're the one who's been there."   
  
"Jenny told me that it has to be somebody young. It was supposed to be Xander, but..." Joyce's words trailed off as she remembered the fate that had befallen the well-meaning boy.   
  
"But he got caught, and you decided two replacements would be better than one?" Oz's voice had an underlying tone of sarcasm.   
  
"Jenny said two would be better than one anyway, Oz," Joyce said, "It was supposed to be you and Xander. It's based on a plan Giles had, just in case something went wrong." She looked at each of the teenagers in turn, her heart in her eyes. "Neither one of you has to do this. I'll try, if I have to, though Jenny says the spell won't hold on me for long enough to get to the Compound. But I have faith in you guys. You have the resourcefulness to adapt and do this right, with the right help."   
  
"Even with this?" Oz smacked his cast, glancing at Nigel with some anger in the back of his gaze. It had been Nathan -- albeit in Angel's body -- who put Oz into this cast.   
  
Nigel stepped forward with a bottle of blue powder. "We're going to take care of that. Give Mother Nature quite the helping hand."   
  
Oz looked at the bottle in consideration, the wheels in his mind clicking away as he figured out what was going on here. But Cordelia didn't have that much patience.   
  
Raising a hand, she cried, "Even though I'm, like, your third choice, I'm not saying no, but I'm not saying yes until I know exactly what will happen to me. It better not be something making me a giant toad or a lizard or something, because my wardrobe just doesn't go well with scales."   
  
Even Nigel had to conceal a chuckle at that one. "No, Miss Chase, there are no creatures involved in this. Just you, Mr.... er... Oz and Miss Summers..."   
  
Cordelia looked at him, even more confused. "What does Buffy have to do with this?"   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
Sunnydale -- The Rose Cup   
  
Amy pulled up and got out of her car a little nervously. What if Terrance stood her up again? Amy knew that Terrance had many responsibilities that were more important than a lunch date, but the day before had been so embarrassing, no matter the sweet apologies she'd gotten later.   
  
But before she had even turned off the engine, she saw Terrance standing out front waving at her. She got out of the car and hurried over to give him a hug. His cheeks were a little flushed, and when she leaned in to give him a kiss she noticed a purple bruise on his jawbone.   
  
"What happened?" she exclaimed, touching the bruise with a gentle fingertip.   
  
The boy's welcoming smile faded into a fierce frown. "Angel."   
  
Amy's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "What are you talking about? Did you and Angel get into a fight?"   
  
"Let's just say that Angel took the Kun'gi's side when the demon started beating up on me," Terrance spat angrily.   
  
Amy didn't know what to think. Terrance was so angry, and there was the bruise, as big and purple as any she'd ever seen. But that just didn't seem like something Angel would do. "Why would he do that?"   
  
Terrance shook his head. "I have no idea. It was a big surprise to me, let me tell you. But at least he didn't let the demon kill me, just punch on me for awhile." He sighed and seemed to try and rein in his anger. "I'm sorry, Amy. I didn't want to ruin our date, it's just that I'm so upset..."   
  
"It sounds like something upsetting definitely happened," Amy replied. "You have a right not to be cheerful. Maybe... maybe you and Angel should talk. I could go with you, be an impartial third party. Or we could call Jenny. I'm sure something can be worked out."   
  
He looked at her and smiled. "You mean you wouldn't mind skipping lunch?"   
  
"Not if it helps you and Angel," Amy replied, smiling back at him.   
  
Terrance leaned down and gave her a soft kiss on the lips. Then he guided her back to her car. "Maybe we can go back to my place and call them. I'm also worried about Faith. She was gone all night again, and I don't know where she is."   
  
"Oh, no," Amy said. "That just doesn't seem right for someone who's supposed to be in command."   
  
"That's what I keep saying," Terrance replied, "but no one listens. I'll just have to hope that..."   
  
"Hope what?"   
  
Terrance shook his head. "Never mind. It wasn't important. Do you mind if I drive?"   
  
"You sure you can stay on the right side of the road?" Amy teased, but she handed him the keys and got in the passenger side.   
  
"No problem." Terrance started the car, and they squealed out of the restaurant parking lot, heading back into the main part of Sunnydale. Amy wasn't sure what they were going to do, but it was obviously very important to Terrance. Sneaking a glance at his handsome profile, Amy sat back in the seat and waited.   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
England -- The Compound   
  
After Buffy had a quiet dinner alone in the huge dining hall, Gwendolyn came back and showed Buffy to her bedroom. When the Watcher left, Buffy closed the door and looked around. Like the rest of the mansion, her room was well appointed and full of antiques. It had everything a bedroom should have -- a bed, a night stand, a dresser, a connecting bath. But no telephone. Looking in the dresser drawers, Buffy saw that her clothes from earlier had been cleaned and put in one. Her bag sat on top of the dresser. She ran her fingers across the bag, closed her eyes and thought of home. She wanted to go try and find Xander, or a phone to call the hotel, but if she were going to look like she trusted the Council, she couldn't be caught doing anything like that.   
  
Then Buffy remembered the note Giles had given her. She made sure the door was closed and locked, then she pulled it out and unfolded it. She recognized Giles's handwriting immediately.   
  
"Dear Buffy,   
  
I'm writing this in the hotel during one of my interminable sessions with Wesley. He's a good enough boy, but I don't have high hopes for how he'll do against Barrows. I wanted to have this note prepared, just in case something happens at the tribunal. If suspicion falls on me, we will be cut off from each other, and I have to make sure you know about my plan.   
  
Jenny has been working on a spell derivation for me. It should be finished soon, and she will fax it to the hotel. If something happens to me, or if they detain me at the Compound, call Jenny and she will know what to do. The spell she is attempting to derive is based upon the spell we used to transfer the Slayer Essence from Sonya to you all those months ago.   
  
The spell should be divide your powers, loaning some to others for a limited time, while leaving you enough so that you do not get ill, and thus attract the attention of the other Watchers. The main problem with the spell is anchoring the powers, even for a little while, to someone without the genetic codes of a Slayer, but it has to be that way, because if we transferred them to a potential Slayer (if we could find one we could trust) she would probably keep them permanently.   
  
If we can find a healer for Oz's leg, I thought that sending him and Xander in, each with a third of your powers, would be the best thing. I won't go into too many details, but you had to know what was coming. If you feel weak or dizzy, just cover it up. Don't let on to the Council. Then, perhaps, we will stand a chance to get Sonya and Doyle back.   
  
When you've read this, and understand it, destroy it.   
  
Giles"   
  
Buffy read the note several times over, until she almost had it memorized. Then she shredded it up into tiny pieces and flushed it down the toilet. After that was taken care of, Buffy laid back on her bed, wondering what it would feel like to lose only part of her powers for a limited time. She wasn't excited about the prospect, but if it would help them find Sonya, Doyle and now Xander, Buffy was willing. Then, with nothing else to do but worry about her friends and her mother, Buffy closed her eyes and willed herself to sleep.   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
Sunnydale -- The Condo   
  
Covered with a thick blanket, Angel made it into the condo unscathed. Jenny waited for him by the open door.   
  
"Any problems?" she asked.   
  
"I'm just a little smoky, now," Angel answered in a wry tone. He walked inside and threw the blanket over the coat rack. Jenny closed the door behind them, and they went into Giles's library/study where open occult books covered every available surface.   
  
"What did you find out?" Angel asked, peering at one of the books.   
  
Jenny sighed and pushed her dark bangs off of her forehead. "Taking what you told me about the Kun'gi and what you just told me about the supposed attack last night that couldn't have happened, I've come up with a pretty harsh scenario."   
  
Angel looked up and saw the dark smudges marring the pale skin under her dark eyes. "Are you OK, Jenny?"   
  
She brushed off his concern with a wave of her hand. "I'm fine. I've just been up all night researching."   
  
His thoughts flashed back to what he'd been up all night doing, and he felt a twinge of guilt. Angel pushed that away and concentrated on what Jenny was saying. "... so I think that Nicole was trying to put something over on Faith."   
  
"You think Nicole is the one draining life essences?"   
  
"It's possible." Jenny pointed to a thick book on the edge of the desk. "There are spells in here that allow a human to drain the life force from another human. The spells are complex, but they do exist."   
  
"But why?"   
  
"That I don't know," Jenny answered. "I've gone through everything Giles has on the subject, and all I could get were myths. Supposedly draining a life force can prolong your life, or heal you from various ailments -- none of which Nicole seemed to be suffering from -- but it was all conjecture." Jenny paused and then added, "Honestly, I've been getting a strange vibe from those commandos since they got here. And if Nicole is in on it, then the others probably are, too."   
  
"No!" Angel exclaimed. "Not all of them. Not Faith! Terrance, maybe. Even Rio I could believe, but not Faith."   
  
Jenny's eyes narrowed on Angel. "And just why do you believe in Faith's innocence so strongly? She tried to kill you several times, and you've never gotten along. Unless there's something you're not telling me, Angel."   
  
"We're getting along... better... now," Angel hedged, avoiding her demanding gaze. "And why would Faith tell me about Nicole if it were all part of some elaborate cover up?"   
  
"To protect herself?" Jenny guessed. "I don't know. I just don't think we can afford to trust them." Her face paled as a thought struck her. "Amy! She's been getting really chummy with Terrance. We've got to warn her."   
  
Angel watched as Jenny went to the phone and called Amy. After a few minutes, Jenny said, "Amy, it's Jenny. When you get this, call either me or Angel as soon as possible." Then she hung up. Turning to Angel, she said, "She wasn't home."   
  
Suddenly the door opened, and Faith burst into the condo. Seeing Angel and Jenny in the library, she ran in and asked, "Have you seen the others? I went back to the motel and they were gone. I can't raise them on the radio, and I don't know where they are."   
  
Jenny and Angel looked at each other. In light of what they'd just been talking about, this didn't look good for the three errant commandos. But Angel hoped that Jenny would be more favorable to Faith since the girl had come to them first. Unless it was all part of some big scheme to cover her own butt... Angel didn't want to think that, but when it came right down to it, he really didn't know Faith, or what made her tick, very well.   
  
Looking at Faith, Angel said, "We've got something to tell you..." 


	18. Chapter 17

In the Space of a Journey  
Chapter Seventeen   
  
England   
  
Cordelia opened her eyes and looked around the room. She saw shelves full of weird jars and crystals, soft lighting that gave the room a comfortable glow in the pre-dawn darkness and Oz laying on a bed next to her. Less than a bed, more like a table -- and very uncomfortable. Cordelia missed her bed at the Ritz.   
  
"How are you feeling, Cordelia?" a cultured, male voice asked.   
  
Then she remembered where she was. Nigel's shop. And when she woke up after the spell, she was supposed to be... a Slayer?   
  
Shaking off the lagging effects of the sleeping spell, Cordelia sprang to her feet, a new energy flowing through her veins. "I feel fine. Better than fine, actually. But a little thirsty..." She arched an eyebrow at the tall, thin, dark-haired warlock.   
  
He stared at her for a minute. Cordelia almost thought she had lost her touch with men, and then he turned to do her bidding.   
  
"I'm glad you feel all right, Cordelia," Joyce said.   
  
Cordelia turned and gave Buffy's mother a strained smile. It was hard to know how to act around the woman. Her whole being screamed pain and fear, but she covered it well. Joyce stood next to Oz, who had just opened his eyes. The boy sat up and flexed his leg.   
  
Looking at Nigel, he commented, "It's healed."   
  
"Yes," Nigel replied, pouring water into a small, glass flute.   
  
"It doesn't hurt." Oz jumped down from the table and tested his weight on the newly-healed leg.   
  
"If you had been awake during the healing procedure, you would have a rather different opinion." Nigel handed Cordelia the glass.   
  
She grabbed it, and it shattered in her grasp. "I don't know my own strength," she muttered, embarrassed.   
  
"Actually you don't," Nigel replied, unsurprised. He quickly swept up the broken glass and disposed of it.   
  
"Cordelia! Your hand," Joyce exclaimed.   
  
Everyone looked at Cordelia's extended hand. It was bleeding from a couple of nasty cuts.   
  
"Do you have a bandage?" Joyce asked Nigel.   
  
"It doesn't really hurt," Cordelia said, looking at her hand as if the appendage belonged to someone else.   
  
"There's no need," Nigel answered. And he was right. A few seconds later and the cuts began to close and scab over. If they kept healing at the same rate, the scabs and reddened skin would be gone in hours. Or less.   
  
"Whoa," Oz muttered. He reached over and grabbed Cordelia's hand to see for himself.   
  
"Ow!" Cordelia yanked her hand back. "That hurt!" But she pulled too hard and Oz went flying over the table. He landed on the floor with a hard thump.   
  
"Ouch," he said mildly, getting back to his feet. "I guess neither of us knows our own strength."   
  
"You will get used to it soon," Nigel assured them. "We've got a few hours before you must leave for the Compound."   
  
"You don't want us to go when it's still dark?" Cordelia asked, frowning at Nigel. "Like when they can't see us?"   
  
"Ms. Calendar and I have worked out something a little better than that." Nigel reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, tin circlet. "This ring will protect you, even in broad daylight."   
  
Cordelia's eyes narrowed. "I know jewelry, buster, and that's a dinky Crackerjacks prize. Not a ring. How will that help?"   
  
"Appearances can be deceiving," Nigel replied cryptically, tossing Cordelia the ring. She caught it with no problem. "Put it on, Cordelia, and try not to break it."   
  
"Ha, ha, ha," Cordelia replied sarcastically, but she did as she was told and slipped the ring onto her left ring finger. Then, right before the surprised eyes of Oz and Joyce, Cordelia faded away from sight.   
  
"So, like, is something supposed to be happening here?" her disembodied voice demanded.   
  
Oz looked at the place where her voice had come from. Then he looked at Nigel. "Cool."   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
A pounding at her door in the Compound woke Buffy up just after dawn. She groaned, feeling extraordinarily tired. She didn't want to leave her warm cocoon of blankets and the nice, fluffy mattress.   
  
"Go 'way," she muttered into her pillow, but the knocking didn't stop.   
  
And then she heard Marcus's voice. "Buffy. The tribunal resumes in just a little over an hour, and breakfast starts in half that. Since you're the star witness today we can't have you testifying on an empty stomach."   
  
"All right," Buffy called in a clipped voice. "I'll be ready in twenty minutes."   
  
"I'll be back," Marcus replied. Then she heard his footsteps receding in the hallway.   
  
"Can't a girl ever get any privacy around here?" Buffy grumbled, though she already knew the answer to that question. Then she forced herself to get out of bed. In the bathroom, she turned on the shower. Then, while waiting for the water to heat up, she stared at herself in the mirror. Her hair seemed kind of limp and lackluster, and there were deep purple shadows marring the thin skin underneath her eyes.   
  
"Gonna need tons of concealer today," she muttered unhappily. "Why does loosing one's powers have such an affect on the looks?" She sighed, but actually she both felt and looked much better than the last time she had lost her powers. Part of that, she decided, was that she only lost two-thirds of her powers, not all of them, and the other part was that she knew what was going on. Her feelings of loss and weakness were not accompanied by the gut-wrenching fear that she was dying or something equally horrible.   
  
When steam began to waft over the shower curtain, Buffy decided it was time to stop moping and get cleaned up. She had a part to play -- the Watchers couldn't think that she was at anything less that full strength or anything less than on their side.   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
"Lass! Yer alive!" Doyle stopped straining against the leather straps holding him to the stretcher as the random Watcher in the white coat wheeled him in next to his former cell-mate. He looked at her, and noticed her wan complexion. "Ye are OK, right?"   
  
"I'm alive," Sonya said simply. "No thanks to them." She shot the man positioning Doyle's stretcher a poisonous glare.   
  
"Shut up," the man replied. "I've had enough of your American melodrama. You should appreciate the time to yourself."   
  
Sonya snorted. "Yeah, Charles, I'm *so* grateful that you gave me a break from the gut-wrenching, torturous tests of my healing powers..." Her voice trailed off, and realization dawned on her face. Her gaze turned back to Doyle. "Oh, no..."   
  
"Wha'?" Doyle asked. Then a woman walked in, wheeling a huge machine. She placed it next to his stretcher and began to attach electrodes to his head. "Hey, what are ye doin', lady?"   
  
"Be still, the test will go faster," the woman replied crisply.   
  
"Ellen, it sure took you long enough," Charles complained, moving away from their prisoners to set up a projector and a screen on the other side of the room.   
  
"I had to charge up the machine," Ellen informed him. "Now, Charles, just do your job, and let me do mine."   
  
"Charge up the machine?" Doyle repeated from under several more electrodes, his voice becoming a high-pitched squeak. He looked over at Sonya. Her gaze spoke volumes of pain experienced and tortures received in the name of testing. Then she turned, as if she couldn't bear to watch any longer. Doyle could see her reflection in the mirrored walls that surrounded the room. Her expression was one of doom and something else... Could that be fear he saw in her eyes? Fear for him? That alone scared him even more than the machine.   
  
"Now," Ellen said, getting up and plugging the machine in to a computer on another cart. Charles connected the computer to the projector. "Just so you know, Doyle, what we're about to do is try to stimulate one of your so-called visions with an electric pulse of varying intensities. If we succeed, this computer will translate the electronic impulses from your mind into a viewable form, and we will all watch it together on the screen."   
  
"Should be interesting," Charles added. He looked at Sonya, who he seemed to really enjoy tormenting. "How about a little pop corn? You Americans like that at the cinema, right?"   
  
Sonya wouldn't look at him. "Shut up," she growled.   
  
"Wait a minute!" Doyle protested. "I thought none of ye Council-types believed in me visions! That's what yer bosses told Aidan anyway."   
  
Ellen stared at him. Her eyes cold. "We do what we are told to help the greater good. Just think how invaluable your gift would be in the hands of someone quick, someone brave, someone willing to devote themselves to the Cause..."   
  
"What cause?" Doyle demanded.   
  
"Saving the world from evil, of course," Charles took it upon himself to answer.   
  
"Ye save the world from evil by kidnappin' people and torturin', excuse me, testin' them?" Doyle would have shaken his head or thrown up his hands in disgust, but he couldn't, so he settled for a fierce glare.   
  
"Pretty sick, isn't it?" Sonya said dryly, her calm voice at odds with the fear in her eyes. "Gotta love a group of fanatics with a goal."   
  
"Neither of you are worthy of such special powers!" Charles exclaimed, getting red in the face.   
  
"Charles!" Ellen broke into his tirade. "Hush, and make sure the projector is ready." Suitably abashed, Charles moved over to the projector. Ellen looked at Doyle. "Ready?" Without waiting for any acknowledgement she hit a blue button and Doyle began to twitch as several joules of electricity poured into his brain.   
  
He tried to fight it, but soon he was just riding along on a wave of pain. It was all he could do to keep from screaming. Then, just as suddenly as it had started, it stopped. Doyle didn't move. His brain felt like so much mush, his thoughts scattered to the winds. He had to consciously remind himself to breathe.   
  
"It didn't work," Charles said unnecessarily.   
  
"We'll just try a higher setting," Ellen replied.   
  
From behind closed eyes, Doyle heard her click a few knobs on the machine and then the pain poured in again. As he jerked on the bed, his demon spikes came out -- a defense mechanism. By the time they were on their fourth try, he was screaming in agony.   
  
"Stop it! You're killing him!" Sonya cried out in protest, "It's not worth it!" However, a slap from Charles stopped her voice for the moment.   
  
Doyle lay on the stretcher, his limbs still twitching from his last bout with the machine, his eyes rolling back in his head. Ellen reached a hand over to the machine, ready to up the voltage for a fifth try. Before her fingers could reach the dial, Doyle began convulsing from an entirely different kind of pain. The pain of a vision.   
  
"It's working!" Charles exclaimed.   
  
Ellen let her finger fall off the button. Her eyes glued to the screen and the images forming as Doyle writhed on the stretcher.   
  
"How do you know he wasn't going to have one anyway?" Sonya muttered. Charles glared at her, and she knew if he hadn't been next to the projector she would have gotten slapped again. Sonya didn't care about that. It would just make her revenge sweeter when he slipped up and she got free. She had to keep telling herself that.   
  
Then her eyes reluctantly moved to the screen, almost against her will, and she watched the vision play out. The images flashing across the screen were grainy and hard to recognize, and their speed was startling. She was amazed that Doyle could ever even decipher any of these visions. To her it looked like a movie on fast forward with the image scrambled up and the sound turned off. But every once in a while, she could recognize something.   
  
She saw figures in golden robes, one of them familiar. But before she could focus on that, the scene changed to show the usmistakable visage of a vampire. Seconds later, saw a woman, Gwendolyn Post if she remembered correctly, standing off to the side, watching. And then she saw Cordelia Chase, wearing a business suit consisting of a tweed jacket and skirt and a white blouse. Her hair was hidden under an extremely bad wig. Sonya wondered if any of the Watchers recognized Cordelia, but they didn't appear to. Sonya's breath caught in her throat when she recognized Oz standing beside Cordelia, also wearing tweed and holding a briefcase. She was equal parts relieved and dismayed when the image shifted, glad that the Watchers didn't have any more time to figure out the significance of Oz and Cordelia's appearance in the vision but sad to lose Oz's comforting image. And then there was a face that made her blood run cold.   
  
"Nathan," she whispered, panic beginning to set in. "Oh my god."   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
"So, are you guys ready for this?" Joyce asked as she pulled Nigel's car over onto the side of the road a mile or so away from the Compound. A small lane intersected the main road, probably leading to someone's country house or something. She maneuvered the car into it, and turned around so she was facing the highway. When she turned off the motor, the car was positioned far enough away from the road not to be obvious to passing cars, but where she would have a good view of everyone that passed by. Nigel's car was hunter green, so it blended in with the foliage well.   
  
"Yeah," Oz replied, trying to look confident.   
  
"Of course, we are." Cordelia tried to bolster the strength of her words with a huge smile. "I just wish I didn't have to wear this stupid wig, or this tweed. Ug! Who wears tweed nowadays anyway?"   
  
"Watchers," Oz answered.   
  
Joyce didn't buy the kids' acting for one second, but she pretended she did, knowing that her confidence in them would give them confidence in themselves. "I know you're ready. You can do this."   
  
"Thanks, Joyce," Oz said, opening his door.   
  
"I'll be here waiting," Joyce promised as Cordelia got out of the car as well. "And remember, if you need me to get closer to the gate, shoot off that flare Nigel gave you." Her mind still boggled at the idea of a magical flare calibrated so only she could see it, but Nigel was full of interesting surprises.   
  
Oz patted his pocket, which contained the few magical aids Nigel had given them for the mission. Joyce nodded, and then watched. Cordelia put the ring on her finger and slowly faded into invisibility. Oz reached out his hand, and Cordelia must have clasped it with her own, because seconds later he was gone, too, and Joyce was alone with her thoughts for the duration.   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
The room in which the tribunal was being held was already full when Buffy got there. She scanned the benches for a place to sit. There was one spot left, right behind Giles. The same place she'd sat yesterday. Giles turned and noticed her. Then Barrows walked up to her.   
  
"Buffy, dear, since you're testifying today, I thought you could sit with me at the prosecution's table," he said, giving her his best smile. "Your choice, of course."   
  
The smile intensified the knot in Buffy's stomach. He must not want her anywhere close to Giles. But there was only one thing she could do. She nodded at Barrows and followed him to the seat he had prepared, right next to him. She walked right by Giles without giving him a second look, though it hurt to do so. Buffy just hoped that he would understand her pretense when all this was over.   
  
"Are you ready to testify, Buffy?" Barrows asked as she sat down in the chair and smoothed her skirt over her legs. "I know we haven't gone over your testimony..."   
  
"Don't worry," Buffy assured him, keeping her face blank. "I'm ready."   
  
"Even with all this stuff going on about your... er... friends?" Barrows questioned delicately.   
  
"Even so," Buffy replied, looking away from him and hoping he'd take the hint. She was pretty sure that this Watcher didn't trust her. But she had to keep playing her part, despite the weakness in her muscles, the butterflies in her stomach and Barrows's gaze on the back of her head.   
  
Soon the trio of judges entered and sat down in their customary spots. The beginning remarks and recap of yesterday's testimony must have taken twenty minutes, at least, but to Buffy it seemed mere seconds before the proconsul allowed Barrows to call his first witness.   
  
"Let me introduce to the court, Ethan Rayne," Barrows said in his booming voice. A short, thin man walked up from the back of the room and was sworn in. Buffy snuck a peek at Giles and noticed that his face had gone whiter than usual. That puzzled her. Giles, her Giles, Xander and Sonya's Giles, didn't have anything to hide... did he?   
  
Barrows walked over in front of the witness. "Mr. Rayne, how do you know the defendant, Rupert Giles?"   
  
"We hung out a bit when we were young."   
  
"'Hung out,' you say? Doing what? Please, share with the court."   
  
"Well, the Ripper and I -- we used to call him Ripper -- had a whole gang of friends."   
  
Barrows narrowed his eyes and focused on the man in the chair. "Or, perhaps you might call it a coven?"   
  
"Yes, yes, you could call it that," Rayne admitted, a small smile on his lips. "Except that we weren't all witches and warlocks. Ripper wasn't."   
  
"But he did participate in your castings?"   
  
"Of course. Ripper was head research guy. He found all the best spells to try and demons to summon. Once we did this love spell... well, we had the whole of London almost knocking down our doors." At the end of his revelations, he gave Giles a self-satisfied look. "Quite the ride, wasn't it, old chap? Several rides, actually."   
  
A collective gasp was heard around the room. Buffy looked from Rayne to Giles. Giles wasn't denying anything. In fact, was the look on his face guilt? The look on Rayne's face bordered on enjoyment. Then the question and answer session continued, as Buffy's faith in her Watcher took it's another plunge.   
  
"So, Mr. Rayne," Barrows said, after a long pause to let the enormity of the revelation sink in. "Are you saying that this man, Rupert Giles, otherwise known as 'The Ripper,' despite his vows to protect the world from darkness and evil willingly participated in occultic activities that harmed the populace and summoned demon-spawn from the gates of Hell?   
  
"Well, that might be a tad harsh. And I know nothing about any vows. We were fun-loving machines. Sure, a few people got injured, but no one died."   
  
The questioning didn't go on much longer. There weren't many more damning statements that Barrows could elicit from Rayne. Wesley was given a chance to cross examine, but, surprised as he was, he couldn't think of anything to add that would help Giles. Buffy hoped that Wesley would put Giles on the stand later to explain himself. She was shocked beyond words at the revelations about Giles. "Ripper" was so different than the Giles she knew today. She knew that he probably had reasons. And everyone went through some sort of rebellion, didn't they? But she couldn't shake the feelings of betrayal that merged with the feelings of love and respect she usually had for her Watcher.   
  
And then Barrows decided to call her to the stand.   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
It was hard to run holding hands, but that's what Oz and Cordelia had to do to stay invisible. It would have been even harder to climb the gate holding hands, but luckily a latecomer for the tribunal passed through just as they got there. They noticed a slight burning sensation as the crossed the boundaries of the Compound, but Nigel had warned them about that.   
  
"Ward spell," Oz whispered as they continued.   
  
Cordelia nodded mutely. The spell worked in such a way that they could see each other, but no one else could see them. Luckily, the warlock who had bespelled them was extremely powerful. His experiences with the Nathan spirit had given Nigel much understanding of the magical world, and access to much more knowledge than he would have had otherwise. Nigel had said that they might feel a ward spell, but they would not be detected as much more than a blip as long as they were under the cover of his invisibility spell.   
  
They followed the same latecomer into the building, made it inside with no mishaps, and, thanks to Joyce's description, found the secret door in the fireplace beneath the stairs easily. Then they were in the hallway that led to where they knew Doyle's cell to be. They had a plan as to how to get inside, but it would just take time.   
  
When they got to the door, Cordelia, the taller of the two, stretched up on her tiptoes and looked through the small window. She nodded, signaling that Doyle was inside. Now they just had to wait for someone to come.   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
Buffy stood and walked to the witness chair, trying not to let her nervousness show. She could feel the eyes of everyone in the room upon her, and she knew they were all wondering what she would say. Compounded with her mild sick feeling from losing two-thirds of her power, and it was hard for her to do much at all. But she managed to make her way up to the chair and sit down.   
  
It was hard not to look at Giles, but she passed right by him without a word or a gesture. She hoped he wouldn't think she hated him because of the revelations that had been unearthed. She was angry at him for hiding the truth, but she knew she would get over it. The question now was, what could she say to Barrows that would help Giles but not give her secrets away to the bad elements on the Council?   
  
She took her place in the chair, and nervously smoothed her skirt across her knees. Barrows walked over and smiled at her. His version of a kindly smile didn't do much for the butterflies in her stomach.   
  
"Now, Buffy," he said mildly. "Tell us about training with Mr. Giles."   
  
"Well," Buffy replied, keeping her face as emotionless as possible, "he is very good at his job. He knows all about weapons and fighting techniques and things."   
  
"Good, good. But tell us more. How did he relate to you as the Slayer?"   
  
"He was kind of stiff at first, but he loosened up after a while. It was kind of hard with Sonya still in the picture..." Buffy bit off her words, but Barrows seized on the comment.   
  
"So, are you saying that by taking the Choosing of the Slayer upon himself, Mr. Giles created a difficult situation? The former Slayer, Sonya, was still in his custody. It must have been hard for him to balance the needs of a crippled former Slayer with the those of the new Slayer. One of you must have felt a lack of attention."   
  
"It was kind of hard, but we made it work," Buffy tried to assure Barrows and the judges, breaking character, be damned. She wasn't going to lie. Not about this. She hoped they would attribute it to a Slayer's natural respect for her first Watcher and not hold it against her and put her under house arrest, too.   
  
"But you shouldn't have had to just 'make it work,' should you?" Barrows asked triumphantly. "Had the proper rules for selecting a Watcher for a new Slayer been followed, then you would not have been forced to make do with an inferior situation."   
  
"It wasn't a bad situation, most of the time," Buffy protested. "Giles knows a lot. He was a great trainer. Yes, there was some initial stickiness with the Sonya thing, but it was fine. Really!"   
  
"Even when Mr. Giles ignored you to help Sonya get her legs back?" Barrows asked, lifting an eyebrow.   
  
"How do you know about that?" Buffy shot back.   
  
"Does that change the fact that it happened?"   
  
"It wasn't Giles' fault," Buffy tried to explain. "This warlock put a spell on Sonya that made her wishes come true."   
  
"If one of Sonya's wishes was for Mr. Giles to care more about her than about you, it just goes to prove my point," Barrows said, giving Buffy a suspicious look. "You don't agree?" Buffy was silent, so he added, "And it also shows that Mr. Giles breached another section of the Codes. He got too close to Sonya. Watchers are supposed to keep their role well-defined so they can have perspective to help the Slayer. Caring about her too much leads to a Watcher being willing to sacrifice the good of all for the good of the few."   
  
Buffy sighed and looked at Barrows. "What do you want me to say here?"   
  
"Tell me the truth, Buffy." He looked at her with a piercing gaze. "Just tell me the truth about your relationship with Mr. Giles."   
  
Buffy looked at Giles. She could see he was waiting for her response, too, as was everyone in the room. "I think that Giles shouldn't be condemned for what might have been bad choices at the time. I think he did the best job he knew how to do, and he is good at his job." She hesitated before adding the last part, but she had to be honest. "Yes, sometimes it has been hard, and there were times that I wished I had my own Watcher that I did not share with Sonya. But I think that overall, Giles has been a good Watcher and done the job to the best of his capability."   
  
"I suppose, then," Barrows said, "the question is that is 'the best of his ability' good enough for the job."   
  
After that, he sat down and turned things over to Wesley. The other counselor asked a few more questions clarifying that Buffy thought Giles did a good job, but there wasn't much new to add to the knowledge. And the point about Giles getting too close to Sonya definitely hadn't done him any favors with all the Watchers present.   
  
When Buffy went back to her seat, she couldn't bear to look at Giles. Everything was so confusing now. She felt like he'd let her down by lying about his past, but that she'd let him down for not giving a completely glowing testimony. But, one good thing, she wasn't getting personal hate vibes from the other Watchers, so that must mean that they didn't find her defending Giles too out of line. Her cover was still safe, for all the good that would do her.   
  
Then the proconsul hit his gavel against the desk and announced, "We will now recess for lunch. Everyone be back in no more than one hour."   
  
Buffy sighed in relief. At least she would have a break before the torturous proceedings began again.   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
Oz and Cordelia waited for what seemed like hours, but it was probably only a few minutes. Then a man in a white coat came bearing a lunch tray. Oz watched as the man punched in the correct key code, and committed the number to memory. The man opened both doors and set the tray down on the floor.   
  
"Food," the man announced.   
  
Doyle was laying on the floor near the window, not moving. He didn't respond. There were a couple of circle shaped bruises on his head barely visible in the lighting that was dim even in the middle of the day.   
  
Oz looked at Cordelia. He had a plan. He just hoped she would be quick enough to go along with it. She looked back at him, trying to be ready. Oz looked from her to the man and made a kissy face. Understanding dawned in the brunette's eyes. She nodded. Oz let go of her hand and stepped to the side of the door. Cordelia quickly removed the ring.   
  
The man in the white coat turned to see a woman with bushy, red hair in a tweed suit standing in the doorway of the cell. She looked sort of like a Watcher -- the same uniform. But somehow she was too sexy to be a normal Watcher.   
  
"Who are you?" he exclaimed. His hand moved toward the alarm button, but Cordelia stilled it with a smooth gesture. With her other hand, she touched the man's chest. He started to blush, but didn't move.   
  
"Who do you want me to be?" Cordelia replied in her sexiest tone. She let go of his hand and put her fingers to the top of her blouse seductively. The man's eyes bulged. He stepped out of the cell just as Cordelia ducked out of the way and Oz punched the guy right in the face with all his might. Since his might had been incredibly enhanced, the man went flying across the cell and hit his head on the opposing wall with a resounding crack.   
  
Oz hurried into the cell. "Come on!" he urged. "Let's get Doyle."   
  
Cordelia followed Oz inside, making sure the door was as open as possible. Then she got an idea. Looking from Doyle to the man's white coat, she said, "I think we need to leave a decoy..."   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
Xander paced back and forth in his room. It was nicer than a cell, granted, but it was still a prison. And he was hungry. There hadn't been any breakfast, and now it was almost noon.   
  
The sound of a key in the lock made him stop. Xander turned and watched as the door opened to reveal none other than Gwendolyn Post.   
  
"Miss Post," Xander said with some surprise. "To what do I owe the... er... honor?"   
  
Gwendolyn glanced behind her carefully and then shut the door, locking it and pocketing the key. "I'm here to warn you."   
  
Xander laughed. "Good one. Next try and convince me that you play first base for the Angels."   
  
She gave him a cutting glare. "Enough of this! I picked you because I thought you would understand..."   
  
"Understand a kidnapping?" Xander interrupted in amazement. "Yeah, right!"   
  
"It's not a kidnapping." Gwendolyn walked into the room and sat down on the bed. She patted the bed next to her. "Sit down and let me explain."   
  
Xander raised and eyebrow and remained exactly where he was.   
  
Gwendolyn sighed. "All right. Make this more difficult. I'm on your side. Yours, Buffy's and Giles's."   
  
"Sure," Xander remarked with as much sarcasm as he could muster, but inside he was beginning to wonder if there was any truth to her words. He took a few steps closer to the woman, but did not sit down next to her.   
  
When she spoke, her voice was breathy and anxious -- a far cry from the in control woman he'd known her to be previously.   
  
"You know how Buffy missed her calling the first time?"   
  
Xander nodded. After Buffy moved to Sunnydale, that story had come to light.   
  
"Well, when she got hurt, it set off a chain reaction through the Council," Gwendolyn told him. Her blue eyes were serious. "There was a faction who believed that we needed to take drastic measures to ensure that the world was never left defenseless if something should happen to the Slayer. If Buffy had been Chosen a few seconds sooner, we would have had a crippled Slayer on our hands, and that would have been disastrous. People began to see that just being destined to be the Slayer was not enough to keep a girl safe from harm.   
  
"The proconsul had just been elected by the Board of Directors, and he formed a committee to see what we could do. I was on that committee. We devised a plan to train potential Slayers and others with special powers to help in the Cause."   
  
"Like Faith, and Terrance and the others," Xander realized, becoming interested in her story in spite of himself. He sat down on the bed next to her.   
  
Gwendolyn nodded. "I'm ashamed to admit it, but at that time in my life I was experimenting with the occult. I don't know if it was simple rebellion against my destiny, or something darker. But this committee saved me. I focused on that and found a way to pursue my interests for good instead of evil. But then things changed. After I proved myself to him with my aptitude, Chamberlain appointed me his vice proconsul. Then I got to know all his secrets. He let me in on the function of the committee that no one else, including the great majority of the Watchers, knew about."   
  
She paused, and Xander urged, "Go on!"   
  
Her face was more pale than normal. "I told you that they were training people... well, kids mostly, kids are the most malleable... with special powers. Well, they were doing more than that. This special branch of the committee was trapping demons, and even humans unwilling to use their special powers to fight for our Cause. After months of testing, they found a way to steal these abilities from the 'undesirables' and put them into more supportive and willing candidates."   
  
Xander looked at her in shock. "But what happened to the people who lost their abilities?"   
  
"In most cases," Gwendolyn told him quietly, "they died. And if they didn't, they had to be eliminated to keep the secret safe. But there was something else. Something worse. Something that made me vow never to mess with the occult again, except to destroy it."   
  
"What could be worse than that?" Xander was almost afraid to hear the answer to this question.   
  
"The ones who got the powers -- especially those who were elevated from mere humans -- it takes too much energy for them to keep the powers in any natural way. The first ones who received the extra powers burned up their life force in a matter of days, sometimes mere hours, trying to keep it. I was there. I saw them burn themselves from the inside to a charred husk, and none of us, not even them, could do anything to stop it. Until one of the committee members, a promising girl named Ellen, figured out a way. They could use the life force of others."   
  
Realization dawned on Xander's face. "So to fight the evil, these commandos have to kill innocent people to do it?"   
  
"The committee members and the proconsul thought it was worth it -- an ends justifies the means sort of thing." Gwendolyn looked at him with pain-filled eyes. "But I don't think so. I think it's completely wrong. I've been working behind the scenes to stop it, but there's not much I can do without compromising my position. That was why I tried to alert Buffy..."   
  
"The anonymous letter," Xander realized.   
  
"Yes, but it didn't work. Now she is confined to the grounds, and Giles is under house arrest. They would have caged you downstairs with Sonya and Doyle, but I hid you and put you up here. I'm sorry about the lack of food, by the way. I couldn't risk attracting attention to where you were."   
  
"What happened to Joyce?" Xander asked. He'd been worried about her all this time.   
  
"She is a very resourceful woman," Gwendolyn said. "She got away. Council operatives tried to catch her at your hotel, but she and the others were gone when they got there."   
  
Secure in the knowledge that Joyce, Cordelia and Oz, at least, were safe, Xander turned his mind to other matters. His mind was whirling with the new knowledge Gwendolyn had given him. She'd given him the answers to so many questions, even questions he had not known he had. He began putting the pieces together, speaking out loud as he did so.   
  
"So, that's why you guys kidnapped Doyle and Sonya, isn't it?"   
  
Gwendolyn nodded. "They want their powers."   
  
"What about Buffy and Giles?"   
  
"Buffy is safe, as long as she is willing to play their game. She's doing a good job of that right now. Giles, however, is about to be made a scapegoat."   
  
"But you're a judge, can't you...?"   
  
She shook her head. "Not without compromising my position. I walk a fine line here. If I get caught, no one will be around to keep an eye on the Council. And, I'm not sure if Aidan would vote with me. They may have gotten to him."   
  
Xander stared into her eyes. "What do I need to do?"   
  
"Get out of here," she replied. "Now. When I leave, the door will not be locked. Wait a few minutes, until I'm gone, and then sneak away under the cover of the lunch crowd. Tell your friends, and maybe you can think of something. I'll give you all the help I can, but..."   
  
"But if they ask, you'll disavow all knowledge," Xander filled in for her in a slightly bitter tone. "How very Mission Impossible."   
  
Gwendolyn took him seriously. "Yes, it is an impossible mission, but I've read Giles's reports about you, Xander. Maybe you can think of something. If not, then at least I'll know that I saved one life." With that, she stood and walked out of the room, leaving the key in the lock this time.   
  
Xander sat on the bed, ingesting all that she had just told him, and tried to come up with a plan. Mission Impossible indeed. Then he stood, walked through the unlocked door and began trying to sneak out of the mansion without being detected.   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
Doyle felt himself being moved about, not of his own volition. Remembering the pain that had resulted last time, he forced himself to open his eyes. He looked into the most beautiful face he had ever seen, framed by the worst red hair ever.   
  
"Am I dead?" he asked in wonderment and he stared into Cordelia's caring brown eyes. "Is this heaven? On a bad hair day?"   
  
"Snap out of it, Doyle," Cordelia ordered, her worried look quickly replaced by an expression of frustration. "We've got to move it if we're going to get out of here."   
  
That was when he remembered some of his latest vision. Doyle looked down and noticed that he was wearing a white coat. Then he saw the unconscious man lying on the floor in Doyle's place and wearing his bloody clothes. There was a large bruise on the man's face. Doyle glanced at Oz, looking quite odd in tweed. "Did ye do that?"   
  
Oz nodded.   
  
"How?" Doyle asked.   
  
"There's no time for that," Cordelia replied briskly. Satisfied that he could stand on his own, she let him go.   
  
That was when Doyle realized that the thin, lithe, young woman had been holding him up all by herself. Now, Doyle knew he wasn't a heavyweight, but Cordelia wasn't even breathing hard. "Somethin' weird's goin' on here..."   
  
"Come on," Cordelia urged. "We'll tell you later. Now, let's get Sonya and get out of here."   
  
"Do you know where they have her?" Oz asked.   
  
Doyle nodded and lead them to the room. Sonya was inside, laying on her bed. It looked like she was staring right at them through the windows. Oz motioned for her to come to the door.   
  
"No good," Doyle told him. "Those are two-way mirrors. We can see in. She cannae see out."   
  
They went to the door, but it was locked with another electronic, keypad lock. Oz punched in the number he'd memorized from before, but the number was rejected. Then an alarm went off. Oz turned around, grabbed a nearby chair, and with one hand threw it at the window with all his Slayer-strength behind it. There was a loud sound as the chair broke into bits. The window was scarcely dented. Sonya didn't even move. She hadn't heard a thing.   
  
"They must be enchanted, man," Doyle said. "Or really strong. These guys don' want nothin' gettin' in or outta there wi'out their say so."   
  
"Oz!" Cordelia exclaimed. "We've got to get out of here. We know where she is now. We can come back for her."   
  
"I'm not leaving with out her!" Oz insisted.   
  
Cordelia reached into her pocket, pulled out the ring and gave it to Doyle. "Here. Put this on and follow us. It will make you, and anything you touch, invisible. We can fight our way out -- we have some of Buffy's Slayer power. It's a long story, don't ask. But you use this and get the hell out of here!"   
  
Doyle looked at the ring, and then back at Cordelia. "I'm not leaving you."   
  
Cordelia glared at him. "Don't leave then, but put on the ring. It's the only advantage you've got right now, and, in case you haven't noticed, you look like crap. I don't think you could fight very well even in your demon form after whatever they did to you."   
  
Doyle did still feel less that his best after the whole electric shock treatment from earlier. Secretly, he thought that the flighty beauty was revealing some impressive hidden depths during this whole thing. Putting the ring on, he said, "Let's go, and I'll be yer secret back up."   
  
Cordelia turned to Oz, still trying to find a way through the door. "We can't do it, Oz!" she told him. The alarm was getting louder. "We've got to get out of here and try again later."   
  
He turned and glared at her. Cordelia winced at the anguish in his eyes.   
  
"Oz," she said, more softly, "Sonya wouldn't want any of us to get killed for her, especially you. If we could do this once, we can do this again. We *will* get her back."   
  
The light of hope in Oz's eyes died, but he finally gave in to Cordelia's demands. "Let's go."   
  
They ran up the stairs -- Cordelia assumed the invisible Doyle was behind them -- and out into the entry way. Up here, she could not hear the alarm, so maybe they still had a chance.   
  
They were making best possible speed for the door when someone crashed straight into Cordelia. She flipped to her feet, reached out and grabbed the person by the arms, ready to use her new strength however she had to, and then she recognized the person she was holding with his feet dangling a little off the floor.   
  
"Xander? You're alive!"   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
Those in the room where the tribunal was being held had no idea what was going on elsewhere in the mansion. They couldn't hear any alarms coming from the floor beneath them, even though the silence was thick as they waited for the judges to come out again.   
  
Finally, Marcus announced the judges, and Aidan and Chamberlain came out to take their seats. Buffy was just beginning to wonder what had happened to Gwendolyn, when the woman came out, her cheeks a little pinker than usual and still straightening her gown.   
  
As Buffy watched, a man came and whispered something to Marcus. Marcus motioned for the man to leave, and then went up to the proconsul and whispered something in the third man's ear. Chamberlain's face twitched and then went unfathomable again. He whispered something to Marcus, and the lackey disappeared.   
  
Chamberlain looked at Barrows and Wesley. "Are there any further arguments, or have we heard them all?"   
  
Barrows said smugly, "The prosecution has presented all relevant evidence, sir."   
  
Chamberlain nodded and turned to Wesley. "Mr. Windham-Price?"   
  
Wesley stood, and swallowed nervously. "The defense calls..."   
  
Giles reached out and touched Wesley's jacket, stopping his words. Then, as Buffy watched, Giles said something in a soft tone that made Wesley's eyes go wide behind his glasses. The two men seemed to disagree about something for a moment, but Giles won the argument.   
  
Wesley turned around and said to the room at large, "Mr. Giles has elected not to testify in his own behalf, so the defense has nothing else to offer in this matter. We just hope that you will think about all this with open minds before you make your decision and realize that there is more to everything than meets the eye."   
  
Chamberlain gave Wesley a tight smile. "I'm sure there is, Mr. Windham-Price." To everyone, he said, "Then the tribunal judges and I will retire to chambers and discuss the case." The three judges walked out.   
  
Buffy looked at Barrows. "What happens now?"   
  
He smirked. "We wait. No one in their right mind will leave the room now. They won't want to miss the end results."   
  
Buffy sighed deeply, then schooled her face to look nonchalant as she waited.   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
Aidan followed the other two judges into the room with a sinking heart. He didn't want to vote against his former mentor. Despite all the evidence to the contrary, Aidan believed in Giles completely. Working with kids like Faith had taught Aidan that everyone has a rebellious side. Giles's past had come as a shock to Aidan, but he didn't think the man should be condemned for his actions. Lying to the Council was another story, but Aidan knew that sometimes things had to be taken into one's own hands. If Giles had not acted and instead waited for the Council to vote on things, life in Sunnydale would have been unlivable, Aidan was sure of that.   
  
It was funny that it took sitting in judgement over his former mentor for Aidan to get his beliefs in order. He knew now that it was too late that he should have listened to Doyle from the start. Aidan was really worried about his friend. But now he didn't know where Doyle was and there was nothing he could do for Giles either.   
  
"Well," Chamberlain said, getting the judgement started, "that was something, wasn't it?"   
  
Gwendolyn smiled at him, but remained silent.   
  
"So, let me be the first to state my opinion," Chamberlain went on. "I believe Mr. Giles is no longer worthy to be a Watcher. I think we have to find him guilty, and remove him from his position as Active Watcher immediately. Further punishment will be decided later, as tradition dictates, but my vote on that is that he should be expelled from the Council without further ado, if nothing else." He turned his gaze on Aidan. "What do you think, Mr. O'Shea?"   
  
Aidan was silent for a long moment. He looked at Gwendolyn, wondering how she would vote. If she voted in favor of Giles, and he did, too, they could save him. The proconsul's vote was not given any heavier weight in such proceedings. But Gwendolyn seemed like the proconsul's lap dog. She had never contradicted him on anything Aidan had ever seen, what was the likelihood she would this time? And if he voted against the proconsul and she did not, he would be hung out to dry, too. It was a lose-lose situation, and Aidan didn't know what would be the best thing to do. Should he take the risk now, or bide his time and keep his position secure until he could help later?   
  
He could see that Chamberlain was getting impatient behind his fake smile. Aidan had to make a decision. With a deep sigh, he said, "I agree, Proconsul Chamberlain."   
  
"Good!" Chamberlain said, clapping Aidan on the back. "And you, Ms. Post?"   
  
Gwendolyn's gaze was inscrutable as she said, "Of course, I agree with you, too, sir."   
  
Aidan's heart sank even further as Chamberlain's smile widened. "Let's go back out and make our announcement."   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
It took the judges less than five minutes to make their decision. Buffy looked at Barrows in surprise. "Shouldn't that have take longer?"   
  
"No," Barrows replied. "They are right on schedule."   
  
Taking his seat, Chamberlain said, "Rupert Giles, please stand and face us."   
  
Giles did as he was told. Buffy bit her lip as worries fluttered through her brain. What would happen if they found him guilty?   
  
Chamberlain's face was unreadable as he spoke the words that sealed Giles's fate, and in some ways, Buffy's as well.   
  
"Following the Codes of the Council, we have heard the testimonies and evaluated them fairly. We three have now come to a unanimous decision. We find you, Rupert Giles, guilty of violating the Codes on many different counts -- most importantly, you are guilty of falsifying reports, becoming too involved with *both* of your Slayers, breaking into the Compound and stealing information, revealing our secrets to many outsiders and, finally, of taking it upon yourself to Choose the next Slayer instead of leaving it to the mystical fates as has been done for centuries. As such, you are immediately deposed from the status of Active Watcher. The Board of Directors is to be assembled immediately to help us decide your sentence. Do you have any questions?"   
  
Giles looked at Chamberlain calmly. His face had gone pale, but otherwise he did nothing to show how the sentence made him feel. "No questions at all, Proconsul."   
  
"Good," Chamberlain replied. He looked at the front row of those sitting in the spectator area. "Are the Board members present and accounted for?"   
  
The first row center, twelve men and women wearing the traditional tweed, stood up and began to file out toward the chambers in the back. The proconsul motioned to two guards who moved to stand next to Giles and Wesley. Then he, Gwendolyn and Aidan joined the disappearing group, heading off to decide Giles's fate once and for all.   
  
Buffy watched them leave, conscious of Barrows next to her and his tiny, self-satisfied smile.. Only one thought went through her head. (What am I going to do now?)   
Sunnydale   
  
Terrance was silent as he drove Amy's car back to the motel where he and the other commandos were staying.   
  
"So," Amy said finally, hoping to break the silence. "Are you really doing OK, Terrance? You're not usually this quiet."(It's almost like he's forgotten I'm even here) she thought, a worried frown wrinkling her forehead.   
  
He glanced away from the road and gave her his best smile, the one that always melted her heart. "I'm actually doing much better just being in your presence, Amy."   
  
"Really?" Amy couldn't stop her giggle of happiness, or her blush.   
  
Soon they pulled into the parking lot, and Terrance stopped the car. "Do you want to come with me to my room?"   
  
"Are we going to call Jenny?" Amy asked. She didn't want to bring the subject of Terrance's problems with Angel up again, but it really needed to be addressed. Every time he looked at her, her eyes were drawn to the huge, purple smudge decorating his jawline.   
  
Terrance paused for a second, and then he said, "Perhaps. But first I've got to see if Faith ever came back."   
  
Amy nodded. They got out of the car, and she followed him back to his room. Terrance unlocked the door and let Amy in. When he didn't follow her over the threshold, she turned back and looked at him quizzically.   
  
"I am just going to check if anyone is in the girls' room," Terrance explained. "It doesn't look like Rio is in here, so just make yourself comfortable until I get back."   
  
"All right." Amy smiled at him.   
  
After Terrance closed the door, Amy walked over and picked up the phone. (Might as well check my messages while I'm waiting) she thought, and quickly dialed the number.   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*   
  
"So, what do you want from us?" Jenny asked Faith. The teacher had her hands on her hips, and was giving Faith her most teacherly look.   
  
Angel looked at Faith, wondering what the girl would say. Jenny's words from before -- words of distrust for Faith and her motives, in addition to the motives of all those on her team -- echoed in Angel's mind. He had to wonder about her true motives. Angel wanted to believe in Faith and her honesty, despite all the mixed feelings they had between them, but he needed a little proof.   
  
Faith glared right back at Jenny. She was not about to be intimidated by a mere teacher. She had faced much worse in her short life. "You guys are supposed to be helping me! At least, that's what you said when all this started. I thought you would help me find my missing team. If not, maybe I should go!" She turned and headed for the door.   
  
Angel grabbed her arm, stopping her forward momentum. "Wait! We want to find your team as much as you do. And we want to find Amy. She's missing, too."   
  
"Yes," Jenny interjected. She narrowed her eyes on Faith. "But what are you going to do if we find out that your team members are involved in these attacks?"   
  
Faith jerked her arm out of Angel's grasp and walked in front of Jenny. Faith put her hands on her hips and bit out each word of her reply with exacting, angry enunciation. "*If* my team members are involved in these attacks then they will be dealt with. And not just by me! But, if they are not involved, then you two will have to apologize to each and every one of them."   
  
"Fine," Jenny replied with a tight smile that did not reach her eyes. "Now we have to figure out a plan." Her gaze flashed to Angel, and the vampire saw something he didn't understand in their flashing depths. "Angel, Giles left you in charge here. Any ideas?"   
  
Angel turned to Faith. "When was the last time you saw them?"   
  
Faith's face went blank. "Last night."   
  
"They've been gone all night?" Jenny demanded. "This is not good. They could have been out there doing anything!"   
  
Angel was glad, for once, that he was a vampire. He couldn't blush. He knew why Faith hadn't seen them since the night before, but he sure wasn't going to tell Jenny all the juicy details about his latest romp in the sack with Faith.   
  
Faith paused for a second, then she said, "I haven't seen them since last night because I did not spend the night at the motel."   
  
If Jenny was taken aback by the declaration, she hid it well. "Oh, really? And what, pray tell, were you doing?"   
  
The commando's hands were back on her hips as she faced down the computer teacher/witch. "Yes, really. But my personal life is not up for debate here. I can do whatever ... or whomever ... I want when I'm not patrolling. That doesn't change the fact that my team is missing, and I will do whatever I have to, to find them."   
  
Jenny stared Faith down for a few tense seconds. Neither woman moved a muscle. Then Jenny relaxed and said, "So, how do you suggest we find them?"   
  
Faith loosened her stance, too. "I wish I knew. Then I wouldn't have had to come here."   
  
"Ladies," Angel interrupted suddenly. "I have an idea."   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*   
  
It didn't take Amy long to dial her home phone number and connect to her answering machine. There was only one message, and it was from Jenny.   
  
"Amy, it's Jenny. When you get this, call either me or Angel as soon as possible."   
  
Amy frowned, hearing an underlying tension in her mentor's voice. It sounded like something was wrong. Jenny usually didn't call her in the middle of the day, and if she did, she usually gave more information than that.   
  
Deciding that she should call and check in, Amy click the button to hang up the phone. Then she started to dial the number of Jenny's apartment. The phone rang on the other end, but Jenny didn't answer. Amy got the machine. She decided that she should try the condo, but Amy decided to leave a message at Jenny's, just in case.   
  
"Hi, Jenny. It's Amy," Amy said, putting as much cheer into her voice as possible to assure Jenny that whatever was wrong, it wasn't with her. "Terrance and I had plans, which is why I missed your call. Right now I'm in his motel room. We will probably catch up with you shortly, or I will try and reach you at the condo. Terrance has some issues to work out with Angel. Well, I'll talk to you soon!"   
  
As Amy hung up the phone, the door opened and Terrance walked into the room.   
  
"Was Faith here?" Amy asked, letting go of the phone as it clicked into place.   
  
Terrance's eyes looked at the phone suspiciously. "No," he answered shortly, "I don't know where she went, and I'm not sure I should even care. She obviously doesn't care about us! Who were you calling?"   
  
Amy frowned at Terrance's harsh reaction. That wasn't the boy she knew. Her voice was soft as she answered his question. "I just called home to check my messages. Is something wrong?"   
  
Terrance seemed to push his attitude away, and he smiled at her. His smile made Amy feel better. He sat down next to her on the bed and assured her, "Of course, nothing's wrong with that. I'm just upset about Faith."   
  
"You sure are," Amy replied. There was a niggling worry in the back of her mind, but she tried to push it away. She didn't want there to be a worry, or anything bad when she was with Terrance. It had been a long time since she met a boy she was this interested in, who was interested in her, too, and she didn't want to spoil that for anything. Looking up into his blue eyes, she asked, "So... what are we going to do now?"   
  
"It's a bit of a surprise," Terrance told her, giving her the smile that made tingles shoot up her spine. "But it starts something like this." He leaned in and kissed her.   
  
The tingles in her spine increased to full-fledged sparks that radiated from every inch of their touching skin. Amy surrendered to the kiss with a small sigh. She knew there were other, more important things, she was supposed to be doing, but that didn't matter when she was in Terrance's arms.   
  
He reached up with one hand and cupped the back of her head. His fingers wound themselves up in her long, blonde curls and tickled her scalp. His other hand found its way under her shirt, but instead of wandering into forbidden territory this time, it was content to draw circles on her back.   
  
The kiss deepened even more, and Amy felt the sparks increase until her head was whirling. She grabbed on to his shoulders for support. Terrance pulled back, and Amy looked up at him. The room was spinning around her. His cheeks were flushed. The last thing Amy heard as she fell into unconsciousness was his whisper next to her ear. "You, my sweet, are amazing."   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*   
  
"When you said you had an idea, I thought you meant something more than random patrolling." Faith broke the awkward silence between herself and Angel with the snide comment.   
  
Angel glanced at her briefly, noting the way her face looked illuminated by the last vestiges of indirect sunlight. It was dusk, and the actual sun had recently dropped below the horizon, freeing Angel to patrol without a blanket or sewer ducts.   
  
"This isn't just 'random' patrolling," he answered her finally. "We're checking out the places that Terrance seemed particularly interested in last night. When we patrolled together, he was extremely curious about every park and cemetery, in addition to a few other, more habitable places. It's likely that he was doing that to find a well, lair, for lack of a better word, for himself and the others."   
  
"Oh." Faith scanned the surrounding cemetery with renewed vigor. "I guess that makes sense."   
  
"Thank you," Angel said, glad that she'd finally seen something his way. It was a small victory, but a sweet one. "If you have any ideas of places he seemed to like, we could try them, too."   
  
Faith nodded. "I'll let you know."   
  
Angel sighed as she lapsed back into silence again. He hoped Jenny was having better luck. Her assignment had been to try all the public places: the mall, restaurants and hangouts Amy and/or Terrance liked, etc. The more time that passed with no word, the more worried Angel became for Amy's welfare, though, diplomatically, he decided not to share that with Faith just yet.   
  
They continued on their way, fanning out and working together to scour each place they recognized. Angel thought about asking Faith where she stood on the whole Terrance-commando issue, but he didn't. Though part of him wanted to know, the other part was afraid to hear, afraid that Faith would say something that Angel could not condone. So, he waited, and they continued patrolling, hoping against hope they could find Amy, and soon.   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*   
  
When Amy opened her eyes, she didn't know where she was. It wasn't the motel. She found herself lying on a small bed. Tied down was more accurate. From her position, she could see a window. It was dark outside. (How long have I been unconscious?) Amy thought, panicking.   
  
Craning her neck, Amy could see that she was in some sort of warehouse. She had never been here before, but it looked just like an old, abandoned warehouse should look. Except for this bedroom suite in the corner.   
  
"Amy. You're awake." Terrance came into view above her.   
  
She jerked reflexively, but she couldn't move anywhere. He sat down on the bed next to her. The springs creaked.   
  
"What did you do to me?" Amy asked. Tears had already formed in the corners of her eyes. Her Terrance -- her sweet, handsome, bone melting, almost boyfriend -- couldn't have really done this, could he? Part of Amy's mind wanted to convince herself it was all a dream, but in her soul she knew better. That kiss Terrance had given her. Well, the dizziness and resulting black out could not have been based on Terrance's sexual prowess alone. Something Hellmouthy was going on here, as much as Amy loathed to admit it.   
  
Terrance reached down and caressed Amy's cheek. He tucked an errant blonde curl behind her left ear.   
  
"Amy," he said in a low, husky voice, "you have the most amazing soul..."   
  
"What are you talking about?" Amy bit her lip as she waited for a response. Something in the gleam of his blue eyes was scaring her even more.   
  
"You see," Terrance explained, "I wasn't always like I am now." He made a gesture with his hand and a glass of water floated from a nearby table into his grip. "Drink?"   
  
"No!" Amy pressed her lips together. No way was she going to ingest anything he gave her!   
  
His eyes narrowed. "That's rather rude, don't you think?"   
  
"When you're the one strapped down to a bed an a strange warehouse, you can talk to me about rude!" Amy snapped.   
  
Terrance started to laugh. "You see what I mean, Amy? Your soul, your spirit, your very essence. It's beautiful and yet so strong. I need it."   
  
"You need it?" Amy repeated for lack of anything original to say. Her mind was spinning.   
  
"I need it," Terrance confirmed. "To keep my powers bound to my body. If I don't have it, then all the extra power living within me will burn my body up from the inside."   
  
Her eyes widened as connections began to form in her brain. "There was no Kun'gi, was there?"   
  
Terrance's eyes narrowed in response. "Unluckily for us, there was. And he was innocent."   
  
"The others are in on this, too?" Amy gasped. "Rio? Nicole? Faith?"   
  
Terrance reached down and smoothed her hair off of her forehead. "There's no need to worry your pretty head about any more of this, Amy. Soon, you'll be in a new place, where none of this matters."   
  
"What you mean is you're going to kill me!" Amy glared at him, pain evident in her gaze. "Was that what it was about from the beginning? You just seduced me to kill me and steal my soul, or my essence, or whatever."   
  
"Of course not!" Terrance looked genuinely affronted. "It wasn't until I kissed you that first time that I realized what a powerful spirit you had."   
  
"That makes it all better," Amy muttered.   
  
His hand in her hair stiffened, pulling several strands painfully tight. "Be quiet, Amy. Transference is a spiritual thing. You're ruining it."   
  
He leaned in -- a mockery of the sleeping beauty scenario. Amy shrank back on the pillow, but she didn't have very far to go. He closed his eyes for the kiss. She would have twisted her head away if an unseen force hadn't held it in place. Terrance's lips touched hers, and she felt the tingling again. But this time, it was in no way pleasant.   
  
"Terrance, stop it!"   
  
He jerked off of her, and Amy breathed a sigh of relief. A rescuer had arrived! Then she looked over his shoulder to see who it was. "Nicole."   
  
The red headed commando spared Amy a tiny glance before turning her attention to Terrance. She was holding a thin, leather-bound book. "Terrance, you cannot have this one."   
  
His handsome face contorted into an expression of dismay. "Why not, Nicole? You knew that I wanted her..."   
  
"If you must, you may have her later, but right now, we need her alive."   
  
Terrance stood and walked over to Nicole. "What are you talking about?"   
  
"We've found a way for you two to bind your powers to your physical bodies permanently."   
  
Amy craned her neck and saw Rio making his way into the room.   
  
"What do you mean?" Terrance asked. Amy shuddered to think what they could mean, but at least it had bought her a little time before becoming a shriveled up husk.   
  
Nicole gestured to Terrance with the book. "Do you know what I have here?"   
  
"No," Terrance replied, his patience obviously waning. "Report, Nicole! And hurry up about it."   
  
"You are not my commanding officer yet," Nicole protested.   
  
Rio stepped forward, interrupting the brewing argument. "That is the Watcher Diary of one Rupert Giles. I found it in the office of the library at the high school."   
  
"Yes, yes," Terrance said, nodding. "Nicole found the spare key at the condo. Go on."   
  
"This book is a record of all events on the Hellmouth by the Watcher in charge," Rio explained.   
  
"A soon-to-be-deposed Watcher," Terrance corrected.   
  
"Yes," Rio replied. "But that is not important. The entry for the night when he took it upon himself to move the powers is what's important." Rio paused. Seeing that Terrance was not going to interrupt again, he took the book from Nicole, opened it to a certain page and gave it to Terrance. "This entry details the kidnapping of one Buffy Summers by a druidic sorcerer named Nathan. Nathan was an expert in transference. He moved his whole consciousness, along with his powers, into many different bodies, expanding his lifetime with each host. The problem was that his hosts, especially those not of druidic descent, could not physically handle all the powers."   
  
"It would burn up their life force from the inside," Nicole spoke up, excitement flashing in her eyes. "But this Nathan had a solution." She paused, a flash of guilt coming over her face, but the momentary lapse was soon replaced by excitement.   
  
"Yes?" Terrance prompted, interested in the story now.   
  
"The solution was the life force of a potential Slayer," Nicole finished.   
  
Terrance ingested that thought for a moment. "How do you know it would work? His situation is somewhat different than ours."   
  
"Not all that different," Rio replied. "I've been researching Council records. A potential Slayer disappeared two weeks after Nathan left the Hellmouth and the Order of Taraka. She was never seen again. It is plausible that he kidnapped her and used her for the ritual instead of Buffy. And then, later in this diary, Nathan came back to Sunnydale."   
  
"And his activities led to the crippled ex-Slayer's renewed ability to walk," Terrance supplied. "I know that."   
  
"What you don't know," Rio said softly, "is that when you compare Giles's debriefings of Buffy from the first time, and Sonya from the second time, Nathan is vastly changed. The first time, Buffy noted Nathan seemed ill. He coughed and took herbs to strengthen himself. But, later Sonya reports no such weakness. Only a strong, competent sorcerer."   
  
"Until they thwarted his plans." Terrance looked at Rio closely. "Do you really think this will work?"   
  
"It has worked already," Rio replied. "And I can do the spell."   
  
Nicole grabbed Terrance's arm. "Rio is a good warlock. He's been practicing since he was practically a babe in arms. This will work, Terrance. Think if it. One more death, and we will never have to kill again. Our work will go on, and we can focus on saving the innocent, like we were meant to."   
  
Terrance's gaze lingered on Amy for a moment. "True. But we will have to eliminate any witnesses."   
  
"Of course," Rio said. "But not at this precise moment. We must have something to lure our exalted commander here." His dark eyes gleamed as he focused on Amy for the first time. "Congratulations, Amy. You've just been given a stay of execution."   
  
The three commandos started when they heard a loud noise, sort of like a bang, coming from the other side of the warehouse.   
  
Terrance motioned to the others, and they fell into a familiar, three-pronged attack pattern. Quietly, powers at the ready, they moved toward where the noise had been. But when they got there, they saw nothing but the door swinging in the wind.   
  
Dropping his tense, attack posture, Terrance slammed the door shut and locked it. He glanced at Rio and said, "Next time you come in late, shut the door all the way."   
  
As Terrance turned back toward the interior of the warehouse and Amy, followed by Nicole, Rio paused and looked at the now-locked door. "I thought I did..."   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*   
  
Jaques galloped through the night, sometimes upright and sometimes on all fours, the only thought in his feral mind to get back to his mistress with this news. He didn't quite know what had been going on in the warehouse, but his mistress had sent him to gather the information, so now he had to get it back to her.   
  
When he reached their home, he ran into his mistress's bedroom. She looked at him with her special smile.   
  
"Jaques, my darling. I hope you have returned with something interesting."   
  
The feral vampire moved close to his mistress, keeping himself submissive to her, and allowed her to plunder his mind for his memories of the warehouse. After the golden glow faded, Jaques looked up, expecting a treat. Instead, he saw his mistress with a frown on her beautiful face.   
  
Ignoring her minion, she stared into her hand mirror -- in which neither she, nor Jaques were reflected. "This is not what I wanted. Not at all."   
  
Then she whispered a few words in Latin, and the surface of the mirror clouded. When it cleared, it was no longer a mirror, but a window. Jaques look inside, puzzled by his mistress's fascination. All he could see were the enemies. He growled at them, causing his mistress to smile and pat him on the head.   
  
"Yes, Jaques, they are not for us either. But the question remains, which is worse?" Then she put the mirror down and focused on him for a change. "My pet, have I forgotten your reward for bringing me such important information?"   
  
Jaques whimpered in response.   
  
"Come this way," she said, crooking her finger at him. Throwing open a curtain in the corner of the room, she revealed two hostages chained to the wall -- a large man and a young girl, no more than five.   
  
"Take your pick, my pet. But just one."   
  
Growling in anticipation, Jaques selected his victim and dived on the man. The girl next to him shrieked in fear until his mistress took her turn.   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*   
  
After searching for several hours and coming up empty-handed, Angel and Faith returned to the condo to rendezvous with Jenny. The older woman was already there when they arrived. She was on the phone, but set the receiver back in its cradle at their approach.   
  
Angel walked right up to her and asked, "Did you find anything?"   
  
Jenny shook her head. "Nothing. I tried calling again, but it's still the machine."   
  
Faith pulled her radio out for about the hundredth time that evening and tried to raise her troops. Yet again, no one responded on any frequency.   
  
"If all their radios aren't broken, they are going to be in so much trouble!" Faith muttered to herself.   
  
Then they heard a knock at the door. An odd knock, accompanied by some scratching. Jenny, Faith and Angel exchanged looks, all getting a feeling of foreboding from the situation. Then, without having to speak, the three warriors moved into position. Faith prepared to open the door. Angel stood at the ready to lash out at anything that came in. Jenny stood back, ready with a defense spell of her own design.   
  
On Angel's silent count of three, Faith threw open the door. Angel leapt out, ready to strike any errant commando or vampire down. But there was nothing there. Angel straightened up and looked around, puzzled.   
  
"Look," Faith said, pointing down by his feet. Angel reached down and picked up a piece of white parchment.   
  
Stepping inside, Angel unrolled the parchment and read it aloud. The astonishment in his voice grew with every word. "The girl, Amy, has been taken to an old warehouse on the corner of Fourth Street and Elm. Much is being planned by your enemies from across the ocean. Take care with how you proceed." He looked up at Faith and Jenny. "It's signed, 'A Friend.'"   
  
Jenny took the parchment and began to examine it.   
  
"This smells like a trap," Faith objected.   
  
"I can feel the magic radiating off of this," Jenny spoke up. "And it doesn't feel like Rio, or either of the others. This is something much older, much more powerful. It has a feeling of the night in it, too."   
  
There was a crashing noise outside. Angel threw open the door again just in time to see Jaques running away down the street. Angel knew he could have taken the feral out, but it had enough of a head start to be difficult, and they didn't have a lot of time to spare right now.   
  
He came in and told them what he'd seen. "The new question is who's trying to trap us, and why?"   
  
Suddenly there was a burst of static from the radio hooked on Faith's belt. They all looked at it. Faith picked it up. "Report."   
  
Nicole's voice was barely audible over the static. "Faith. Come quick. Please. It's got Amy." She mumbled an address and then the radio went dead.   
  
Angel and Jenny exchanged glances. "That's the same address as in the note," Jenny remarked, just in case Faith hadn't caught that.   
  
"That still doesn't prove anything!" Faith retorted.   
  
"But it does mean that we've got to be careful," Angel told her. "Of everybody."   
  
Faith nodded, willing to admit the possibility. In Angel's opinion, that was progress. He opened the door and looked back at Jenny and Faith. "Ready?" They both nodded and preceded him out the door. 


	19. Chapter 18

In the Space of a Journey  
Chapter Eighteen   
  
England: The Compound   
  
After leaving his "guestroom," Xander was disoriented for a moment. He just knew he had to get downstairs and find the front door. Then he wasn't sure what would be the best plan. Trying to find Joyce and the others? Trying to find Buffy and Giles? His mind was still whirling with all that Gwendolyn had told him about the Council and its less than perfect aspects. Apparently Spike had been right all along... imagine that!   
  
Xander kept quiet and walked slowly through the maze of hallways and staircases, ready to dive into a hiding place, or to launch an attack, if he saw a Watcher. But no one was around.   
  
When he finally stumbled across the main staircase, he grinned, excitement and relief warring with that funny feeling that a happy ending just could not be accomplished so easily -- like in horror movies when the happy music starts to play just before the supposedly dead killer wakes up for that last, fatal blow. Xander hesitated at the top of the stairs, and looked around carefully. He didn't hear anything or see anyone. Finally he decided to go for it. He hurried down the stairs. The door was right there, when SMACK!   
  
Xander found himself on the floor one second, his head spinning from the force of the impact, and then next second someone held him several feet off the floor. His feet dangled below him, and the tight grip on his upper arms would definitely leave a bruise. There was only one person who had a grip like that...   
  
"Xander! You're alive!"   
  
"Buffy?" Xander mumbled, shaking his head and trying to clear it. When his eyes focused, instead of Buffy's clear, green gaze he found himself looking into a pair of exotic brown eyes.   
  
"Cordelia? What are you doing here?" He took a second look. "What happened to your hair?"   
  
"There's no time fer playin' catch up! Put him down an' let's get outta here."   
  
"Doyle?" Xander looked around, but couldn't see the Irishman. He did see Oz, looking strange in tweed. "Oh, man, either you can do a good brogue, or I'm going insane."   
  
Cordelia dropped Xander to the ground. He caught his balance, and heard her whisper, "Doyle's here. You just can't see him. Invisibility ring. And Oz and I... there was this plan from Giles to share Buffy's power. But we've got to get out of here. There's an alarm going off downstairs."   
  
"Did you find Sonya, too?" Xander asked, wondering if his missing friend was beyond his sight as well.   
  
His hopes were crushed when Cordelia simply shook her head.   
  
Oz's eyes were bleak. "We couldn't get into the room. Not even with the strength."   
  
Then the last part of Cordelia's statement registered in Xander's brain. "You guys tripped the alarm downstairs? When Joyce and I did that the guys were on us almost instantly." He looked around and still saw and heard no one. "This is really freaky." He thought for a second. "Well, maybe the tribunal is distracting them or something. Let's just try to take advantage of it. Oz, you go first. Cordy, you take the rear. Doyle... just do what you can if they spring something."   
  
Realizing the sense of Xander's orders -- experience on the job came in handy -- the others fell in as he'd suggested. Then they quickly moved through the front door and out into the grounds. For a minute, everything looked deserted. Xander almost thought they were going to make it. Then a crew of Watcher guards and minions suddenly sprang up in front of them from their carefully concealed hiding places.   
  
"Watch out for the girl with the blue eyes," Xander managed to call. "She's a hypnotist. These guys are more than they seem, and it's all bad!" And then he was too busy facing off with a guy who had electric sparks flowing off of his fingers to say anything else.   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
The cavernous room of the tribunal was completely quiet. The judges had withdrawn with the Board of Directors to discuss sentencing, but no one was willing to leave. They didn't want to miss the end of the saga. Buffy sat in her chair, a feeling of lead weighing down her stomach. She didn't know what she was supposed to do now. Visions of quitting the Council raced through her mind, but how would that help Doyle and Sonya and even Xander? But continuing to pretend to go along with them made her feel icky inside.   
  
On the other side of the room, Giles stared blankly at the table in front of him. He'd been demoted from Active Watcher. His life as he knew it was gone. But he'd known it would be, especially from the moment that Ethan had stepped up to the stand. Then all hope had been lost. He'd hidden his past so carefully. Even at the time, he'd known not to advertise his true identity -- hence the pseudonym "Ripper." Giles hadn't been kicked off the Council yet, but he knew that was coming. He could see it in the way the proconsul looked at him.   
  
But Giles's main concern flowed to his children. He'd never expected to bond with them so much. When he'd moved to Sunnydale, working in a high school was the last thing he'd ever wanted. He didn't like teenagers, their loudness, their uncouth habits, their irresponsibility. Perhaps it reminded him of a time in his life that he'd tried, and thought he'd succeeded, to bury. But the chosen few -- Sonya, Xander, Buffy, even Oz, Amy and Cordelia to an extent -- had gotten to him. Made him care about them more than anything else that used to be important to him. Even more than sacred Council guidelines and precepts. Even knowing now where his actions had taken him, Giles knew that he still wouldn't have changed them and risked the lives of his charges, not even for his own safety.   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
Sunnydale: A Warehouse   
  
Angel looked at the warehouse across the street, feeling both surprised and vindicated. It was the same warehouse he and Terrance had found Roger in the night before. (I knew Terrance was a creature of habit. If only we'd patrolled a little longer..) But Angel broke that train of thought off quickly and turned to look at Jenny and Faith. He was nervous about having Jenny with them, but no amount of persuasion could convince her to stay at the condo.   
  
"Everyone remember the plan?" he asked.   
  
Faith gave him her patented "well, duh" expression. "I'm going in alone. You guys are my backup."   
  
Angel nodded. "Don't try and take them all out on your own, Faith. String them along for a while until we've had enough time to get set up."   
  
"You don't know anything for sure, Angel. The note could have been the lie. There's no proof that this isn't exactly what Nicole said it is." Faith's eyes snapped defiantly, but Angel could sense the anxiety beneath the surface, a feeling the hard-headed commando leader would never admit to in front of Angel and Jenny.   
  
He looked deep into Faith's brown eyes. "Don't worry, Faith. Trust me. If things are on the up and up, nothing bad will happen. We..." He gestured to himself and Jenny. "... aren't in the business of finding scapegoats."   
  
Faith stared at him for a moment longer, and then turned toward the door.   
  
"We've got your back," Angel called softly.   
  
"I hope I don't need you to," Faith grunted in reply. She walked slowly, giving Angel and Jenny enough time to melt into the shadows. Then she slipped silently into the warehouse.   
  
Angel turned to see Jenny giving him a contemplative gaze. "You really know how to talk to her, Angel."   
  
"I try," he replied, "but she doesn't like to listen."   
  
"No one can help that." Jenny didn't take her eyes off him. Angel could sense that something which was always there. He knew that the woman had secrets. He'd always assumed that she had issues with vampires. Most humans did. It was apparent, at least to him, in the way she treated him, trusting him in battle but not on a personal level. But they all had secrets, didn't they? His mind flashed to Faith, and suddenly to Buffy as well. They just couldn't let that stuff interfere with the big picture.   
  
He stared to feel uncomfortable under her scrutiny. "Is something wrong?"   
  
She hesitated, then shook her head. "Nothing that won't keep."   
  
"Can I help?"   
  
That surprised her. "No. I wish you could, but you can't. Now, let's get ready."   
  
Angel nodded, and the unlikely duo made their way to their stations.   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
Inside the warehouse, Amy still lay strapped on the bed. Her only relief was that Terrance was now more preoccupied with Nicole and the diary than with her. Amy's mind raced. She had to find a way out of this predicament. She craned her neck to look at her bonds. Thick ropes wound around her wrists and feet several times, knotted securely to the bedposts.   
  
There was a spell Jenny had taught her. When they'd practiced they had been plucking a rose, but perhaps she could use it to untie the knots. Amy frowned, concentrating on her magic, trying to call it to the task at hand. She could feel the sweat bead up on her brow as she concentrated. Amy never understood why it was the little things that seemed the hardest. Jenny said it was because it took so much out of you to control the magic in a confined action. A big action, like blasting someone or levitating a vampire, things Amy had become adept at doing, took the same amount of power, but she didn't have to focus it on a knot smaller than her fist.   
  
Then she felt it, a tiny loosening in the ropes tying her right wrist. The success gave Amy hope. She redoubled her efforts. As she watched, the knot suddenly came loose. Her hand, which had been straining at the rope, dropped down. Amy glanced back at Terrance and Nicole. Still bent over the diary, they hadn't realized yet what she was doing. With her free hand, Amy reached for the other knot, clawing at it with her pink-painted fingernails.   
  
"So, the little witch *can* do something without her mentor."   
  
Amy stifled a surprised sob when she looked up and saw Rio looming over her. His smile was cold, though his gaze seemed a bit admiring. "I didn't think you could do anything without Jenny to hold your hand."   
  
"You don't know anything about me," Amy growled. She expected him to yell at her, alerting Terrance and Nicole to her near escape. But he didn't. Instead he just picked up her hand and retied the rope.   
  
"Don't do that again, Amy," he ordered. "I would hate to have to put a paralysis spell on you."   
  
"Why aren't you telling them?" Amy asked. "I would think you'd want me caught, and dead."   
  
"You have too much talent to die so needlessly," Rio replied, shrugging.   
  
"You're going to save me for Terrance to kill? How servile of you."   
  
"Terrance doesn't deserve you," Rio replied cryptically.   
  
Amy thought she saw something in his eyes. Something human. She seized the opportunity. "Why are you doing this, Rio? Why are you helping them kill? You are such a good warlock. You know more spells and have such control over your magic. When we were practicing with you the other night, I wished I knew as much as you do. But, how can you help them, lead them into doing something like this?"   
  
"There are so many things you don't know about," Rio mumbled, almost to himself.   
  
"So, tell me," Amy whispered.   
  
His eyes suddenly shuttered closed. "I can't."   
  
"Please, Rio." Amy hated the begging tone in her voice, but if Rio didn't help her get out of here, there wasn't much hope left. In the back of her mind, she knew that Angel and Jenny would try and rescue her, but she didn't want them to fall into the commandos' trap. If she could just get free...   
  
Rio looked down at her, his face implacable. Amy stared back at him, willing him to help her, wishing she knew a good brainwashing spell.   
  
"Well, well... Look what we've got here!"   
  
All eyes in the room looked up to see Faith standing above them on a catwalk, her hands on her hips.   
  
"Faith!" Terrance called.   
  
"Don't 'Faith' me, Terrance!" Faith retorted. Her eyes flashed to Nicole. "So, 'he's' got Amy, huh? You guys must think I'm the biggest ditz in the whole world! But you went to the trouble of getting me here... I would have expected something a little more than this. At least a fake bad guy holding you captive or something!"   
  
Nicole was ready with her cue. "Faith!" she screamed. "Look out behind you."   
  
"Oh yeah!" Faith responded with a sneer. "I'm *really* gonna fall for that one."   
  
Before Amy could shout a real warning, a huge two-by-four careened toward her and hit the girl in the back of the head. Faith's eyes rolled up in her head, and she toppled over the edge of the catwalk. Rio whispered a few words that lessened her fall. She hit the floor with only a small crack. Amy winced anyway.   
  
Terrance let go of the two-by-four with his telekinetic grip, and it clattered to the floor. "Rio, Nicole, we've got to see if she brought her pet vampire along or not."   
  
Nicole nodded, pulling her red hair up into a quick, serviceable ponytail. "I'll take the roof."   
  
"Rio, take the perimeter," Terrance ordered.   
  
"Rio?" Amy whispered, but he didn't look down. Instead he just nodded and headed out.   
  
Terrance used his powers to pick up Faith and levitate her to a chair near the bed. He began to tie her up, too. His gaze fell on Amy. "I guess I was right about her all along. She really is too gullible to lead a team."   
  
"You wish!"   
  
His eyes widened dramatically when he realized that Faith was awake... and holding a wickedly sharp knife to his back. "If one thing in this room starts to float, Buster, I'll slit you open from the neck down and pull your spine out with my bare hands to use as a toothpick!" The girl's eyes flashed to Amy. "You OK?"   
  
"I will be," Amy replied, "once I get out of these ropes."   
  
"But... how... what..." Terrance stammered. He held himself straight keeping as much distance between him and the point of the knife as Faith would allow, which wasn't much.   
  
Her face twitched into a flash of a smile. "Guess you're not the only one in this group who can act! Now, Terrance, let's see what we can do about Amy's ropes..."   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
England: The Compound   
  
Xander circled his adversary -- whom he'd nicknamed Electro Dude because of the sparks he weilded with a painful accuracy -- outside the Compound, oblivious to the burns on his back and arms from the last attack. Later they would hurt, but now Xander didn't have time for that.   
  
A few feet away, Cordelia was facing off with a burly guard.   
  
"Yer just a little bit of a thing," the guard said, frowning at her. "If you run home to yer mommy right now I promise not to tear your bloody head off."   
  
Cordelia sneered at him. "I'd like to see you try, Buddy!"   
  
The guard took her challenge as an invitation and lunged at her. Cordelia grabbed him by his shirt and flung him toward Xander. The guy was heavy, but she made it.   
  
Xander saw the motion out of the corner of his eyes, and in a display of teamwork, he maneuvered Electro Dude into position. The guard hit Xander's opponent and sizzled with the deadly contact. Xander came up to the guy, now pinned by the guard's body, and knocked him unconscious.   
  
"Good going, Chase," Xander called before squaring off against the next two guards springing in his direction.   
  
"What can I say?" Cordelia replied, finding a grin. "I work out." She was actually enjoying this. The girls at home would never believe that Cordelia Chase was having fun getting sweaty and beating people up.   
  
"Not enough."   
  
Before Cordelia could turn around, someone picked her up from behind and threw her down. She felt her head crack against the courtyard wall and groaned. She opened her eyes and saw the blurry image of another guard coming after her.   
  
"Don't think I'm going to underestimate you like Edmund did," the guard muttered.   
  
The world was still spinning. Cordelia couldn't do anything. Then, suddenly, the guard grunted and fell to the ground. Cordelia looked up to see who her savior was and frowned. No one was there.   
  
"Are ye alright, Princess?" a familiar Irish brogue asked, seemingly coming out of thin air.   
  
"Yeah," she said as the world settled down around her again. She held out her hand for Doyle to help her up. She felt his tight grasp on her fingers, and then she could see him again. She knew that meant she was invisible, too. Cordelia darted Doyle a quick smile. "Thanks."   
  
"Me pleasure, always," Doyle replied. Then he winked at her.   
  
Cordelia felt a funny tremble in her stomach. Quickly, she turned away and began scanning the area. Xander was holding his own against a couple of guards, but Oz was surrounded by a whole group of them. She gestured, and Doyle noticed the same thing. As one, they began moving in that direction. Doyle stooped to pick up a rock with his free hand, and Cordelia mouthed the words, "One, two, three!"   
  
On three, she let go of Doyle's hand a plunged into the fray. Doyle leveled one guy with the rock, and then he turned to check on Xander. The lad had downed the two guards, but his fight has stilled. He was staring at a tiny girl with big blue eyes.   
  
Remembering what Xander had told them earlier, Doyle ran over and pushed the lad out of the girl's line of sight. "Are ye OK, Xander?" Doyle asked.   
  
Xander rubbed his eyes. "Yeah. I just can't believe I was stupid enough to fall into her trap again. She was hiding behind one of the guards, and when the guard fell down, there she was, and I was staring into her eyes."   
  
The little girl suddenly screamed, "They've got an invisible friend!"   
  
At that, Xander got up, grabbed the girl by the arms -- being sure to point her away from his face -- and whispered, "If you don't shut up I'm going to have to knock you over the head like I did the other guys. I really don't want to do that..."   
  
Suddenly, the little girl fell into silence. Both Xander and Doyle were surprised, but grateful. It seemed somehow very, very wrong to beat up a little girl, no matter what powers she had.   
  
Moments later they were joined by Oz and Cordelia, who'd left a trail of unconscious guards and minions in their wake. And a couple of dead ones.   
  
"It was hard not to kill them all," Cordelia said quietly.   
  
"But it's not their fault the proconsul has hidden the truth from them," Xander added. "Especially the guards. They're just human."   
  
"Guys," Oz said suddenly, "go meet Joyce. Get out of here."   
  
"What are you talking about?" Cordelia demanded. "We're all going."   
  
Oz shook his head. "I'm going back for Sonya. We just took out a big portion of their guards. They're bound to be weaker now. And I'm not leaving her here. I just can't."   
  
"I'm going with you," Xander said suddenly.   
  
"Me, too," came Doyle's disembodied voice.   
  
"Me, three," Cordelia added with only one wistful look towards the gate.   
  
"I don't want you guys to risk yourselves..." Oz said.   
  
"No deal," Xander replied. "If you go, we all go." He glanced down at the girl in his arms. "And I think I've got a great idea about how to get the combination for that key pad..."   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
Sunnydale: The Warehouse Roof   
  
Angel crouched on the roof, peering in through a skylight. He saw Faith, Amy and Terrance, but he couldn't see either of the other commandos.   
  
"Looking for someone, vampire?"   
  
Angel spun around to see Nicole standing behind him, a cold smile on her face.   
  
"What are you doing, Nicole?" Angel asked. "I thought you worked to help people, not hurt them."   
  
"I do," Nicole replied, her smile not wavering one iota. "There's just one more thing I... we need first, and I won't let a vampire and his minions stand in my way."   
  
"That's a convenient way of looking at it," Angel challenged her. "How can you live with yourself?" While he talked, he started walking toward her.   
  
Nicole held out her hands. "Don't move another step, vampire. Have you forgotten my powers so soon? I've been gifted with the power of fire... particularly deadly to one of your ilk. One more move, and you fry where you stand."   
  
Angel froze, trying to think of a way out of this. But, Nicole was right. Her power could turn him to ash in a matter of moments. "All right, Nicole. What do you want me to do?"   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
England: The Compound   
  
It didn't take long for Oz, Cordelia, the invisible Doyle and Xander carrying Blue Eyes to make it back down to the bowels of the Compound. They met a few more guards on the way, but a Slayer-enhanced Cordelia and Oz were more than a match for any single opponent. They noticed that the alarm had been silenced. Maybe they'd thought one squad would be enough to kill them all?   
  
Back in the white-tiled hallway, they came upon a man in a white coat hurrying towards the stairs.   
  
"What are you doing here?" the man asked, his eyes widening. He looked around for an escape route, but he seemed to be cornered.   
  
"He knows the passcode," Doyle hissed to Oz. "He's had quite a hand in torturin' Sonya and meself. He's called Charles."   
  
Oz glared at Charles and grabbed the larger man by the collar. "You're going to let us in that room right now." He half-carried, half-drug Charles to the room holding Sonya.   
  
"No," Charles replied. He was pale and shaking, but he stood his ground. "I will never tell."   
  
"Come on, Blue Eyes," Xander urged, holding the girl up in front of Charles. "Do your thing."   
  
"I'm hungry," the little girl whined.   
  
"Get him to tell us what he knows, and then we'll feed you," Cordelia promised.   
  
"Hungry," the girl repeated, reaching toward Charles with some kind of anger flashing in her eyes. "I want him!"   
  
Charles's eyes went even wider, and he strained as far away from the girl as he could in Oz's tight grip. "No, no. Don't let her touch me! I'll open the door."   
  
That wasn't what Xander had in mind, but it worked just as well. "Do it," he ordered.   
  
Oz dropped Charles, and the frightened Watcher punched in the numbers on the keypad with trembling fingers. The lock clicked and Oz burst into the room. "Sonya!"   
  
"Oz?" Sonya looked at him incredulously. "Is it really you?" Her face was pale, and there were dark circles under her eyes. Even with her quick healing factor, she was sore and wobbly as she sat up in bed. The tests she had undergone had strained the magic to its limits, and every successive healing took longer.   
  
He rushed to her bedside and enfolded her in a tight hug.   
  
"How did you get in here?" Sonya asked, returning the hug just as fiercely.   
  
"We had a little help."   
  
At Xander's voice, Sonya looked up to see him standing there, holding a little girl. Cordelia stood next to, of all people, Charles. A vengeful smile curved Sonya's lips as she pulled away from Oz. "Why, Charles, I see you've met my friends."   
  
"I'm hungry!" the little girl said again.   
  
"For Pete's sake, here!" Cordelia reached into her pocket and pulled out a peppermint she'd been saving for later. "Take this."   
  
The girl ignored the mint. Instead she reached out and put her hands on Xander's bare forearms. Xander began to feel a tingle at the skin-to-skin contact. That was when the full weight of what the girl was doing and what Gwendolyn had told him kicked in. He dropped her. The girl landed on her feet. Her face seemed thinner. "I'm so hungry," she moaned, but she couldn't get close to anyone. Everyone was on their guard, but no one. wanted to touch her. Blue Eyes frowned, and then turned and ran out the door.   
  
"What's wrong with her?" Cordelia asked aloud.   
  
Xander looked at them, his eyes dark with worry. "She's dangerous. Very dangerous." He looked at Charles. The Watcher stared back at them, fear at being trapped obvious on his face. "He knows."   
  
"I... I... won't tell."   
  
Cordelia rolled her eyes. "Yeah, right! We've heard that one before."   
  
"We've got to get that girl before she kills someone," Xander told them. "She's very deadly. Especially with that hypnotic power." Quickly he filled them in on what Gwendolyn had said, carefully omitting the name of his informant so Charles wouldn't know. "She could hypnotize someone and take their life force easily. All she needs is to get them alone."   
  
Sonya glared at Charles. "That fits in with what they... he... did to me and Doyle. They wanted to take our powers..." The fury on her face gave way to concern. "Where's Doyle?"   
  
"Donae worry. I'm right here, lass."   
  
The disembodied voice, on top of everything else, was too much for Charles to take. He promptly passed out. No one bothered to catch him when he hit the floor. For a second, Oz looked like he was going to kick Charles while he was down, but the boy restrained himself.   
  
"Sonya, Doyle," Xander said, taking charge again, "you guys stay invisible. Tie up Charles and then follow us. The Slayers and I will go ahead and try to catch Blue Eyes."   
  
"It would serve them right if we just let her kill them all," Sonya muttered. She blushed when she caught the look Oz gave her. "I'm sorry. It's just..."   
  
"It's all right," Xander said. He walked over and give her a quick, friendly hug. "You've been through a lot. I, for one, am just glad to see you again. But keep in mind, not all of the Council is bad." He looked to Oz and Cordelia. "Now, let's go." They nodded, and the three of them went out the door.   
  
As Sonya watched, Charles suddenly floated over to the bed. As Sonya began to help tie him up, several things that she had accepted earlier finally formed cohesive questions in her head. "Um... Doyle? Why are you invisible? And what did Xander mean by Slayers?" 


	20. Chapter 19

In the Space of a Journey  
Chapter Nineteen   
  
England: The Compound   
  
Aidan looked around the huge table with trepidation. He was surrounded by the most important members of the Council. He knew them all by sight, but they didn't know him. Or they hadn't before today. And now they were sitting here discussing Giles's future as if the man had never done any good for the Council. The proconsul's first, easier recommendation of expulsion and banishment from the Council had been met with many approving nods, and worse penalties were still being discussed.   
  
The young watcher let his mind drift from the matter at hand, and spent some time studying the others around the table. The Board of Directors was composed of twelve Watchers from different walks of life. All were distinguished in some form or fashion. There were three alchemists, five certified Ph.Ds. in demonology, one retired warlock and three former Active Watchers who had distinguished themselves in training, protecting and/or controlling their Slayers. The youngest member of the Board, at forty-three, was a female demonology professor who'd been flown in from her University in Australia for the proceedings. The eldest member was the warlock at ninety-seven. The amazing thing to Aidan was that he didn't look a day over seventy-five. Counting the three judges, there were five women and ten men in the group, and in none of their faces did Aidan find even one modicum of sympathy for Giles.   
  
Aidan turned his gaze to the proconsul. The man had always seemed so nice from afar, but the more time Aidan spent with him, the less Aidan liked him. There was a funny gleam in Chamberlain's eyes that made Aidan's skin crawl. No one else seemed to notice, though.   
  
He let himself drift back into the conversation just in time to hear one of the alchemists, John Warrington, announce, "Has any discussion been given to the idea of execution? In the Renaissance and beyond, rogue Watchers were exterminated on sight."   
  
"Pish, posh, Warrington," Simon DuPris, a former Active Watcher,interrupted. "I'd like to think we aren't that barbaric anymore. Imprisonment would be much more humane."   
  
Aidan shuddered, and let his mind drift again. He couldn't listen to the debates. It would make him ill. He wanted to help Giles, but how could he without getting into trouble himself? Aidan had been having this debate with himself ever since the situation with Doyle began. He'd played it safe every time. And what had it gotten him? Sure, he had the chance to continue to help the world at large, but it had also gotten him a missing friend and a condemned friend.   
  
He tuned back in when the female demonology professor, Lynne Durvaine, spoke up vehemently. "Wait a moment, everyone! I think we're trying to use Mr. Giles as a scapegoat here, and that's just not right. Yes, he is in the wrong in this situation, but execution? Imprisonment? What's already been done -- removal as Active Watcher and being kept away from the Slayer, whom he obviously loves -- could be considered punishment enough."   
  
A murmuring agreement rose up around the table in favor of Lynne's remarks. Aidan added his support as well, with a vigorous nod.   
  
His gaze landed on the proconsul. Chamberlain was staring at Lynne angrily as he twisted a ring around his finger. Then, as if he remembered he could be watched, the furious expression vanished and his normal, nice-guy face was back. Chamberlain laid his hands down on the table, and Aidan focused in on the ring. It was one he'd never seen before. A black stone on a gold backing. But there was something familiar about the ring. Aidan just couldn't place it.   
  
"Well, everyone," Chamberlain said abruptly, "I think we have had ample time for debate. I think we should take a vote to see how everyone stands. Then we can debate more, if need be, or make the necessary adjustments."   
  
"Shall we vote by secret ballot?" Gwendolyn asked.   
  
The proconsul shook his head. "No. I think we need to see where we all stand. Open and honest. That is what we should be."   
  
Aidan swallowed nervously, wondering what he should say, and what he could say, and if the two were in any way compatible.   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
Sunnydale: The Warehouse   
  
Amy stayed motionless until Terrance had finished untying the ropes binding her to the bed.   
  
"All right, Ter," Faith said, gouging him in the back with her knife for good measure, "now we've got to decide what to do with you."   
  
"You won't get away with this, you... you... necrophiliac," Terrance growled.   
  
Amy's eyes widened when she realized what Terrance was implying. She looked at Faith. "Is he saying what I think he's saying?"   
  
For a second Faith almost blushed, but then her normal belligerence took over. "If he means that Angel and I did the nasty a couple of times, yeah. Wanna make something of it?"   
  
Amy shook her head as she stood up from the bed. "No, no. I just wanted to be... clear." She stamped her feet, trying to get the circulation back.   
  
"Now, let's get out of here." Faith jabbed Terrance in the back again, this time drawing blood. "And you're coming with us."   
  
"Not so fast!"   
  
They all looked up to see Nicole walk in with Angel. Her lips were drawn in a tight smile. "One move out of any of you, and the vampire is ash."   
  
Amy froze, but Faith just scowled at Nicole. "One bit of fire flies, and Terrance will be inside out."   
  
"I don't think so," Nicole replied smugly. "You care about this one too much. You won't let me cook him."   
  
"Just try me." Faith adjusted her stance so the blade of her knife rested against her hostage's throat. Amy spotted a drop of blood when Terrance swallowed.   
  
Amy looked back and forth between Faith and Nicole. She had no idea who would win the battle of the hostage takers. She also wondered what she could do to help, but Nicole must have seen the feelings on her face.   
  
"Don't try it, Amy. One poof of magic from you will also bring an early end to your vampire friend."   
  
"Don't listen to her," Angel urged them.   
  
"Shut up!" Nicole ordered, but Angel ignored her for the moment.   
  
"If you have to sacrifice me to stop them, then do it..." Angel's selfless statement was cut off by the cracking sound of fire. His hand was on fire. Angel jerked and smothered the flame out with the edge of his trench coat before it could consume him.   
  
"Next time," Nicole warned, "it will be more than your hand. Now shut up."   
  
Terrance laughed, and Faith edged the knife closer to his throat. The blade bit into the tender skin enough to make him wince.   
  
"That's it!" Nicole yelled at Faith. "I'm tired of waiting. Either let Terrance go this second, or I kill the vampire and come after you myself."   
  
Faith's face went pale and then she did the unthinkable. She threw the knife aside, spewing a stream of obscenities, and let Terrance go.   
  
Terrance turned and sneered at her. "I knew you were the weak link. When we report this, anything we did will be exonerated by the magnitude of your betrayal. A team leader and potential Slayer holding a team member at knife point and sacrificing herself because of her love for a vampire..."   
  
Faith punched Terrance in the nose. Blood spurted between her fingers. She stepped back and looked Terrence in the eye as he danced around trying to staunch the flow of blood from his nostrils. "Next time, be more careful of how you address me."   
  
Nicole just smiled as she watched this by-play.   
  
"Enough!"   
  
Everyone turned to see Rio in the doorway. "This is childish. We must put an end to it."   
  
Terrance, who'd finally gotten the blood to stop running from his almost assuredly broken nose, leered at Faith. "Don't worry. I'll have my revenge."   
  
"I wouldn't bet on it," Faith growled back, trying to keep all three of the commandos in her sight.   
  
"Nicole!" Rio snapped. "Quit fiddling around with that vampire. Let me have him." Rio walked over to Nicole and grabbed Angel's arm.   
  
"I thought you were going to work the ritual on Faith now," Nicole said, confused. She didn't let go of Angel's other arm.   
  
"First I need Angel," Rio replied.   
  
She had a doubtful look on her face, but Nicole finally let Angel go.   
  
Now that no one was looking at her, Amy started edging to the door. She gasped when someone crashed into her from behind, sending her sprawling. She gasped again when she saw who it was.   
  
"Terrance, Nicole. That's not me!"   
  
A second version of Rio ran into the room. This one looked severely worse for the wear. His black hair was mussed, dust and grime streaked his face and clothes, and his garments were torn in several places. Terrance and Nicole stopped and stared at the two Rios. Amy got to her feet and started running for the door. She heard Terrance howl in protest, but he had too many new problems to deal with without chasing her down. Amy got outside and ran several blocks before stopping to take a breath. She glanced back at the warehouse wondering what to do now.   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
England: The Compound   
  
Xander, Oz and Cordelia were on the trail of Blue Eyes. She was fast, but they caught enough glimpses of her to follow fairly accurately. The hard part was going to be surrounding and catching her without giving her the opportunity to hypnotize them and/or drain their life-force away. When she dodged through a door Xander had never seen before, he followed her, and found himself at the bottom of a staircase. They charged up it and found themselves in an empty hallway on the first floor. Blue Eyes must have gone either left or right, but she wasn't visible in either direction.   
  
"All right," Xander said, taking command. It still felt natural to him, even though he'd stepped down from his role as Pseudo-Slayer on the advent of a new, whole Slayer. "Let's split up. Cordelia and I will go left. Oz, you go right."   
  
"We're here, too!"   
  
Xander grinned when he heard Sonya's disembodied voice. "Follow Oz," he said, "and make sure you two stay invisible. You're both kind of weak."   
  
"I'll show you weak, Harris..." Sonya grumbled, but Xander knew she would do what he asked, and he was so glad to have her there challenging him again that it didn't matter.   
  
He and Cordelia hurried down the hall, when suddenly things started to look familiar to Xander. "I've been here before."   
  
"Then where are we going, smarty?" Cordelia asked, giving him a sidelong glance.   
  
"Towards the tribunal," Xander replied. "I hope she went the other way." He had visions of Blue Eyes wrecking havoc and picking off Watchers one by one before they even noticed what was wrong because they were so distracted by whatever was going on with Giles.   
  
"What are we going to do?" Cordelia asked. "Just tell me. I'm ready." Just as the words left her mouth, a wave of dizziness passed over her. She had to grab on to the wall for support.   
  
"What's wrong?" Xander demanded, stopping next to her.   
  
Cordelia felt Buffy's strength come rushing back and she got a handle on herself. "I think the spell is about to wear off. I've still got the Slayer powers, but I don't know for how much longer. Nigel said they would only last a few hours, and it's already been that."   
  
Xander nodded. "Do what you can, while you can, and then, get out of the way..." His words trailed off when he heard footsteps behind them. He and Cordelia dropped into fighting stances, but straightened when they saw Oz.   
  
"She's not down there," Oz told them.   
  
"How can you be sure?" Cordelia asked. "This place is endless."   
  
"At the end of the hallway there was a large room. Some people were there, talking," Sonya told them. "If she'd gone that way, either someone would have been dead or they would be chasing her or dealing with her."   
  
Xander nodded. From around a corner, he heard a door open and close. He peered around the corner, and, just as he'd told Cordelia, there were the doors that led to the tribunal room. "She must have gone in there."   
  
"How do ye suggest we do this, Xander?" Doyle asked.   
  
The disembodied voice gave Xander an idea. "Sonya, Doyle, you two go in first and take a look around, then come back and tell us what's going on."   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
Buffy still sat in her chair, trying to get up the gumption to do something, but she still felt weak and sick, not to mention disheartened. This waiting was destroying her nerves and her stomach lining. Suddenly, she felt a surge of strength. She was powerful! She could do anything! And, just as quickly, it was gone again, leaving her feeling more drained than before.   
  
She wished she could ask Giles was that meant, but she couldn't even talk to him right now.   
  
At the other table, Giles sat quietly. Wesley had gone to get a cup of coffee, but Giles suspected that the younger man just didn't want to sit there in a depressed silence any longer. Giles knew Wesley had tried his best. It was just too bad that Wesley's best hadn't been good enough. But with the proconsul of the Council against him, Giles didn't know what would have been enough.   
  
Giles sighed deeply and looked around the room for something to distract him from his thoughts. Then he noticed some movement out of the corner of his eye. He squinted and saw Ethan waving at him from behind the judges' podium. Giles tried to ignore him, but Ethan wouldn't stop waving. Deciding that he'd better take care of this before the miscreant made him look even worse, Giles got up and walked slowly over to the podium.   
  
When the guard looked at him, Giles said, "Just stretching my feet." The guard nodded and went back to surveying the crowd. Giles walked over to the podium and positioned himself so he could talk to Ethan, but anyone who could see him would think he was just leaning against the podium.   
  
"Ripper!" Ethan started, but Giles interrupted.   
  
"What else could you possibly have to say, Ethan?" Giles demanded in a harsh whisper. "Haven't you massacred me enough? Do you have to make it look like we're still friends today? Not that it matters. They've already got more then enough to give me the worst possible sentence."   
  
"I didn't meant to do it," Ethan blurted in the middle of Giles's tirade.   
  
That stopped Giles mid-rant. "Excuse me?"   
  
"That bloke, Chamberlain. He blackmailed me."   
  
Giles stared at Ethan in disbelief, belatedly remembering that he wasn't supposed to draw attention to the man behind the podium. "What do you mean, Ethan, and if this is another one of your tricks, so help me I'll crush your bloody head with my bare hands!"   
  
That made Ethan smirk. "There's the Ripper I remember." The smirk disappeared and was replaced by something almost like fear. "This isn't my first dealing with the man. He hired me for a job a while back. I had to go and find something for him. Something in Sunnydale. While I was there, after I did the job, I decided to have a little fun, but this vampire named Spike ruined it all."   
  
"You were in Sunnydale? When?"   
  
"Halloween, two years past."   
  
Giles's eyes widened in comprehension. "Xander said he saw a man running from the place where the Chaos demon emerged. You did that?"   
  
"I had to put the vampire in his place," Ethan explained in self-defense.   
  
"What does this have to do with Chamberlain?" Giles demanded. "Get to the point!"   
  
"He had me get something for him, like I said. Something he wanted badly enough to pay me triple the value. I had to go underground to get it, in this vault under the city."   
  
"What was it?" Giles pronounced each word deliberately. "That guard keeps looking over here. I can't stay here much longer without making him suspicious."   
  
Ethan leaned over and whispered something in Giles's ear. Giles looked at the shorter man in shock. "You can't be serious. That would mean Chamberlain..."   
  
"You're right," Ethan assured him. "And I'm deadly serious. Now the bloke's got a hold on me. He knows all about me, Ripper. He could kill me. Or have me killed. I'm his bloody lackey now, just like that Marcus twerp."   
  
"Then why tell me? Chamberlain won't like that if he finds out."   
  
"Because, you getting free means his downfall, and that's the only way I can be safe. And, you've got much more of an in with the Slayer than I do." Ethan smiled mysteriously. "Good luck, Ripper." Then he disappeared into the shadows.   
  
Giles turned and walked back to the table. The guard looked relieved, but Giles was far from it. His mind turned over everything Ethan had said, wondering if it were true, and actually believing it was. Only fear for his life would bring Ethan to him. Chamberlain stood nothing to gain by sending Ethan to feed him a pack of lies. The proconsul had Giles right where he wanted him, he had nothing to gain by lying to Giles.   
  
Giles shot a glance at Buffy. Now, how could he tell her?   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
After the first vote, things in the sentencing chamber were almost tied. Eight voted for the extreme methods advocated by the proconsul and others, and seven voted for less severe punishments. Aidan had been able to vote his conscience, at least somewhat, by going along with a group of demonology professors and two of the former Active Watchers. The surprising vote, to Aidan, was when Gwendolyn Post also advocated for the lesser penalties.   
  
Aidan knew that there was no way he could get the verdict reversed. Once a tribunal decided something, it was irreversible. Not even the Proconsul himself could make Giles Active Watcher again, even if he had a mind to. But Aidan knew he couldn't vote for what the proconsul wanted, even at the expense of his standing.   
  
As the advocates for either side negotiated, ideas were brought up and discarded. The execution idea was eliminated quickly, for which Aidan was grateful. But the leaving-things-as-they-were idea was also eliminated. The debate heated up between banishment and a monetary settlement by Giles to supply the Council's coffers and some degree of imprisonment, from life-long to a mere decade.   
  
It took an arduous hour, but finally the group settled on the banishment/monetary settlement plan.   
  
Chamberlain did not look pleased. Aidan was glad that evil glare wasn't focused on him personally.   
  
"All right, now that we have decided, shall we adjourn and re-start the proceedings?" Chamberlain asked the table at large.   
  
There were nods all around. The guard was called to make the announcement, and the judges and the Board processed back into the main room.   
  
"Mr. Giles," the proconsul called as soon as everyone was seated and the room was acceptably quiet. "We have reached agreement on your sentence. Please stand and face us."   
  
Giles did so, glaring at Chamberlain the whole time. Aidan wondered what could be in Giles's mind. Simply anger at his predicament, or could it be something else?   
  
The proconsul took a deep breath and was about to make his speech, when Giles interrupted him.   
  
"No, Chamberlain! You cannot pronounce a sentence on me! I will pronounce one on you, you despicable fiend!"   
  
Mouths dropped open around the room at Giles's gall. Buffy got to her feet, staring at her former Watcher with a mixture of disbelief and hope.   
  
But before Giles could say anything else, a scream echoed around the cavernous room... 


	21. Chapter 20

In the Space of a Journey  
Chapter Twenty   
  
Part 20:  
England: The Compound   
  
Giles's announcement, followed by the blood-curdling scream, shocked everyone in the huge tribunal chamber into silence. Everyone except Buffy. Before the scream even died away, she was running. Her muscles strained unhappily, but she ignored them. She vaulted over the railing that separated the judging area from the onlookers. For a second, Buffy felt her old self again, and then her foot caught on the edge of the railing. She went sprawling. She felt the stabbing pain as her foot wrenched and bent the wrong way.   
  
One thought rang through her mind. (No! Not my legs!)   
  
For an instant, her fear started to overwhelm her. She was weak again, and alone -- just like the day Billy's truck changed her destiny. Alone except for the eyes of all the astonished Watchers wondering why their Slayer was on the floor and not on the job. That's why they hadn't moved to help, right? Because their own, personal superhero was in the room?   
  
Then Buffy heard the scream again -- it was definitely a female -- and she pulled herself to her feet. Despite the jarring pain in her ankle, she ran toward the sound. Watchers started moving, trying to see what was going on, if they could help or if they could get away.   
  
Buffy scanned the area, but she couldn't see who had been screaming.   
  
"Where are they?" she shouted. The Watchers around her motioned, and she followed their directions.   
  
The doors to the room opened with a resounding crash. Buffy looked up. "Xander! You're alive!"   
  
They were separated by rows and rows of milling people, but Buffy felt the hope in her heart spring alive again now that she could look into his loving, brown eyes. She wasn't alone!   
  
"For God's sake, everyone stop milling around like a flock of chickens!"   
  
Buffy almost sobbed in relief when she heard that voice. It was Giles -- her Giles and not the quiet, drained, personality-less Giles who'd been in control during most of the tribunal -- standing on top of the defense table trying to control the crowd.   
  
"Buffy can't do her job with all you bloody fools in the way! Let those who are trained to fight, do the fighting, and don't bumble around useless. Just sit there!"   
  
Realizing the truth of his words, despite his lack of tact, people started to clear a path, and Buffy kept moving toward the screams. Then she heard another one. This one was male. Buffy started to run again, vaulting and dodging what she could, ignoring the pain that stabbed every time her foot hit the ground. Pain wasn't a luxury she had right now. She was the Slayer, powers or no powers, and she had to help whoever was in trouble.   
  
"They're over here! Whatever they are!" a man called from the top row of seats. Others at the top craned their necks and looked into the narrow space between the raised seats and the wall. Horrified murmurs and gasps could be heard, as well as shocked comments about life force draining and charred flesh.   
  
Buffy was almost there when she heard a familiar voice yell, "We've found her!" Xander made it to her side at the same time.   
  
"Sonya?" Buffy whispered, afraid to hope, but sure she'd recognized that voice.   
  
"And Doyle." Xander grinned at her. "They're invisible. Don't ask."   
  
Then Buffy realized Oz and Cordelia were behind them. The four teens ducked under the seats and made their way to the back. They were shielded from some of the eyes now -- only those along the top row of seats and people peering in the sides could see them.   
  
That was when Buffy saw it -- a little girl with long, flaxen hair staring into a male Watcher's eyes with an incredible blue gaze. He wasn't moving. Her hands were on his cheeks and an azure glow surrounded them. The man's skin was starting to char. Beside them was a charred heap of flesh covered in tweed.   
  
"What is she?" Buffy whispered.   
  
"Don't look into her eyes," Xander said. "Believe me, I know!"   
  
Behind them, Cordelia suddenly groaned. Buffy didn't have time to stop. She, Oz and Xander kept moving. Her strength grew with every step. Buffy grabbed the little girl and pulled her off of the man. The man fell to the ground with a thud.   
  
"Don't let her get skin-to-skin contact with you," Xander warned. "That's how she drains her victims."   
  
"How do you know?" Buffy asked as she found a way to hold Blue Eyes around the torso, effectively binding her arms behind her without any skin-on-skin contact.   
  
"She tried to drain me," Xander explained briefly, "but it only worked when she touched my skin with her bare hands. And she was touching that guy's skin with her bare hands..." As he spoke, Xander leaned down to inspect the fallen man.   
  
The little girl craned her neck to look up at Buffy imploringly. When she spoke, her voice was high, but it carried well. "I'm just so hungry. They won't let me eat? Why did they make me this way if they won't let me eat?"   
  
Taking care not to look into the girl's eyes too deeply, Buffy shook her head. "I don't know." She could hear the Watchers all around them buzzing with comments. Her arms ached a little at the strain of holding the girl so tightly, but she couldn't let the child go.   
  
She turned to look at the man, hoping there was still a chance. "Xander?"   
  
Abruptly, he stood up and let the man fall back to the ground. "Damn it! There's another death on Chamberlain's head!"   
  
Buffy could feel everything spinning out of her control. She looked back to see Oz leaning over Cordelia.   
  
"She's OK," Oz whispered to Buffy. "Loosing the powers makes us dizzy. I can feel mine starting to pull away, too."   
  
Buffy nodded. "Don't worry. I'll keep you safe."   
  
"We'll help!" Suddenly Sonya and Doyle were standing next to them. Doyle slid a small ring into his pocket.   
  
"Come on, Buffy," Xander said. "We've got to go deal with this... now!"   
  
Oz sank down to the ground, and Sonya crouched beside him. Buffy felt the last of her power snap back into her. She felt almost giddy in her strength. "Let's go!"   
  
They made their way out from underneath the bleacher-type seats, Sonya and Doyle supporting Cordelia and Oz until the two former partial Slayers got their bearings back. Buffy, no longer having problems holding Blue Eyes, and Xander led the march up to the podium. Giles got down from the table and met them there.   
  
"What is the meaning of this?" Chamberlain roared. "Guards! Restrain them all."   
  
"Even the Slayer?" a guard asked.   
  
"Even her!" Chamberlain ordered. The anger flashing in his eyes actually scared Buffy for a minute. Her instincts -- sometimes Xander called them her Spidey sense -- started tingling.   
  
"No!" Giles shouted. "You will never give orders in this Council again!"   
  
"Oh, no?" Chamberlain queried. "And why not!"   
  
"Because you are the worst type of fiend..."   
  
"Indeed he is!"   
  
The new voice came for an unexpected source -- unexpected to everyone but Xander.   
  
Gwendolyn Post stood up and pointed at Chamberlain. "You knowingly began and fostered a program to upgrade humans into superior beings by imbuing them with demon powers. When they couldn't keep the powers without killing innocents to live off their life force, like Melinda..." Gwendolyn gestured at Blue Eyes. "...you helped them, and even sent some of them out into the world to fend for themselves. You've sponsored the murder of hundreds and hundreds of innocents, Chamberlain, and I will not stand for it any longer. Not now that I have proof. A whole room of Watchers has seen the results of your horrible, horrible plans! You cannot hide behind your office any more!"   
  
"Oh my..." Wesley said softly from his place at the defense table.   
  
"He kidnapped us," Sonya said to the crowd of Watchers still seated. "He wanted my healing powers."   
  
"An' me visions!" Doyle added. "We have been locked up in the bottom of this place for days!" The half-demon seer made a good candidate for pity -- his face was pale, and bruised from the electrodes, dark circles underlined his eyes and his normally skinny frame seemed even smaller and almost frail after several days of starvation.   
  
"Doyle?" Aidan whispered from his place at the podium. He stood up and started to leave the podium, but someone barred his way in an attempt to challenge the proconsul.   
  
"Is this true, Chamberlain?" one of the Board members, John Warrington, asked, not even noticing that he was standing in Aidan's way. Or just not caring. The look of disgust on Warrington's face -- and Warrington had been one of Chamberlain's most whole-hearted supporters -- was echoed on faces all around the room. The guards had stopped before carrying out their orders, now unsure if they should continue.   
  
Even Barrows was looking at Chamberlain in disbelief. "I didn't know. I didn't know," he mumbled repeatedly from his seat at the prosecution's table. "I didn't know they had to kill people..."   
  
Buffy turned to look at Giles, a smile curving her lips. "Giles! You did it! Everything's going to be all right!"   
  
"How did you know, Giles?" Xander asked. "Did Gwendolyn tell you, too?"   
  
Giles was shaking his head. "No... that wasn't what I was talking about at all."   
  
"Then what did you mean when you called Chamberlain a fiend?" Buffy asked, confused.   
  
Giles looked up at the man in question. Chamberlain's face seethed with rage as he looked around the room. People who had been on his side just seconds before, now looked at him with some combination of fear, anger and disgust.   
  
"Ethan came up to me a little while ago..." Giles began. "He told me... he said that..."   
  
"Come on? What did he say?" Wesley urged, squinting at Giles through his wire-rimmed glasses.   
  
Giles's voice was soft, but Buffy, and everyone standing around them heard it quite clearly. "He said that Chamberlain is a vampire."   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
Sunnydale: The Warehouse   
  
Angel stood near Nicole, watching the scene with an enigmatic smile on his face. Amy had gotten away. That was one step in the right direction. He knew that Jenny was one of the Rios -- that had been a part of the plan. He just couldn't be sure which Rio she was.   
  
"Rio?" Terrance asked, looking from one commando to the other. "Which one are you?"   
  
"Me!" the messy one replied.   
  
"No, me! He's just trying to trick you, Terrance," the neat one retorted.   
  
Angel darted a glance at Nicole. She was engrossed by the dual Rios. He had to find a way to take her out. The plan had been to sneak up on her and hit her over the head on the roof, but somehow she'd managed to turn the tables on him. Angel still didn't know how that had happened. Nicole's powers were the most deadly to him, by far. Until she was incapacitated, Angel wasn't free to act.   
  
The vampire slowly reached into the pocket of his trench coat, checking to see that his security measure was still there, where he'd put it earlier. It was.   
  
He looked down and his gaze met Faith's. She looked angry, but her look softened just a touch when it collided with his.   
  
"Come on!" Nicole snapped right in his ear. "Quit exchanging sappy glances with the whore. We're going down there, and if you so much as twitch a muscle in the wrong direction... well, that blaze on your hand earlier was just the beginning of the torture I can give you, all of it ending with you as a big pile of ash."   
  
Angel nodded, and they began the descent down the rickety stairway that lead from the second level to the ground floor. It creaked with every step.   
  
Terrance was still focused on the two Rios. "I know a way to figure this out. Only the real Rio knows his security code. Tell it to me."   
  
The two Rios stared at each other.   
  
"You first," the messy one said, giving a grand gesture.   
  
"No," the other one replied. "You first. If I tell you the code, then all you have to do is repeat what I said."   
  
Faith snorted. "What a plan, Ter. You're a natural leader, really!"   
  
"Shut up!" Terrance growled at her. He swung his gaze back to the Rios. They were glaring at each other. "All right, you two. You are each going to come whisper the code in my ear. That way the fake Rio can't cheat."   
  
"Fine!" the neat Rio agreed, scowling at his duplicate. "I'll go first."   
  
Before the other Rio could move, the neat one walked over to Terrance and leaned down to whisper something in his ear.   
  
As Angel walked down the last few steps, he had a good vantage point to see what the neat Rio was up to. Unfortunately, so did Nicole as she followed him. The Rio put his hand on Terrance's shoulder, and suddenly Angel knew this one was going to work some magic. He could practically smell the power brewing. Assuming that this Rio was actually Jenny (because why would the real Rio need to magic Terrance?), Angel jumped the last few stairs to the ground and turned to look up at a surprised Nicole.   
  
"That's it!" She extended her hands, and stared at him.   
  
Angel slipped his hands in his pocket and pulled out a mini fire extinguisher. He opened it and let the spray fly at the fire wielder before she could concentrate long enough to set him ablaze. There wasn't much in the tiny canister, but it was enough to coat her face -- finding its way into every opening: eyes, mouth, nose, etc. -- and distract her from using her powers. And that had been Angel's plan all along. While she was momentarily blinded, he dropped the small canister and scooped up a large piece of metal from the floor of the warehouse and aimed it at her head. She crumpled to the ground -- sliding down the staircase the rest of the way.   
  
Spinning around again, Angel was just in time to see Terrance fall to the ground as well, a victim of the neat Rio's magic. The three of them -- Angel, Faith and the neat Rio -- turned to face the messy Rio, who faltered back a step.   
  
The neat Rio whispered, "So mote it be." Suddenly, the appearance of Rio vanished and morphed back into Jenny.   
  
"You fools," the real Rio whispered. "Did you think I wouldn't plan for this?" He clapped his hands three times, and the sounds unnaturally loud in the large, echoing warehouse. Suddenly, the ground started to shake. The debris around them began to move. But wasn't the telekinetic commando unconscious?   
  
Angel looked back to see Terrance grinning at him.   
  
"Faith isn't the only one who knows how to play dead!" Terrance bragged.   
  
Angel ran for Terrance, but he came up short against a forcefield. Faith ran for Rio, and found the same thing. The debris Terrance was moving came together in two large piles. Rio said several words in ancient Sumarian, and the piles started to meld and grow until they formed something vaguely resembling of the human form.   
  
Rio looked at Jenny. "Have fun, my dear." He reached out and grabbed Faith by the arm. The girl tried to pull away, but she couldn't get her hand free from his iron-like grip.   
  
Her eyes widened and she looked at Rio with something akin to fear. "What... what are you doing?"   
  
"I'm going to complete this ritual, and you're going to help me. Now, come on!" Rio pulled Faith away with him.   
  
"No!" Angel ran for Faith, but one of the huge junk monsters stepped in his way.   
  
"Bye, guys. Have oodles and oodles of fun." Terrance actually winked at them. Then he picked up Nicole's unconscious body and followed Rio, leaving Angel and Jenny with the two junk monsters. 


	22. Chapter 21

In the Space of a Journey  
Chapter Twenty-One   
  
Sunnydale: Outside the Warehouse   
  
After running several blocks, scared for her life, Amy slowed to a stop and turned around. She knew that Angel, Jenny and Faith were in there, and she couldn't let them fight without her, no matter what her fears were. They wouldn't be there if she hadn't been stupid enough to be taken in by Terrance and his lies.   
  
Amy kept to the shadows as she made her way back to the warehouse where Terrance and the commandos had held her captive. Just before she got there, she saw the door fly open and smash into the wall. Terrance walked out with Nicole flung over his shoulder. Rio came out pulling Faith. Amy noticed, with a quiver in her heart, that the harsh brunette actually looked scared. It was obvious that she was no longer in control of her team. The thought of Faith being scared, even a little bit, worried Amy more than anything else.   
  
She only had a minute to consider her options. Go find out what the commandos had done to Angel and Jenny, or follow the kidnappers and find out where they were going. She decided on the latter. One thing Angel and Jenny weren't was clairvoyant. If she found out where the commandos were taking Faith, they'd be one step closer to a rescue.   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
Inside the warehouse, Angel looked up at one of the vaguely human-shaped junk monsters. It stood about eight feet tall and was twice as broad across the chest as Angel. Of course, its shoulders were made from a huge metal beam, so that helped.   
  
The junk monster swiped at him, but slowness went along with superior strength. Angel avoided the blow easily.   
  
"Angel!"   
  
He turned to see the other junk monster bearing down on Jenny. The witch had crouched in a corner to call up a spell that would disassemble the monsters. She had to counter the spell Rio had used to seal the junk together and give it motion. But she needed to concentrate.   
  
With a running leap, Angel sprang at the second junk monster. He landed with all his force on the thing's arm. The arm -- a chunk of wood tipped with metal -- fell to the floor. As Angel moved back in the opposite direction, the junk monster looked at him with it's beady little headlights and started moving in his directions.   
  
"Thanks!" Jenny called as she traced a mystical shape in the dust at her feet.   
  
"Just hurry!" Angel replied.   
  
The armless junk monster was in front of him, and the whole one was behind him. They both moved toward him one step at a time. Each step thunked against the concrete floor so loud that the noise echoed about the cavernous structure. He could feel the vibrations under his feet.   
  
Then Angel got an idea. It was kind of cartoonish, but it just might work. The monsters kept coming for him. He stood stock still in the middle of the warehouse floor. They kept coming. One of them reached out to grab him -- the one with two arms. Angel jumped out of the way, but came down in the same place. Then, just as the second monster got close enough to lunge for him, Angel dropped to the floor and rolled out of the way. The two monsters ran into each other with the crash of bending metal. Angel had to dodge sparks and falling pieces of metal debris.   
  
But because the monsters were made out of junk, losing some of their body parts didn't even phase them. They kept coming. One of them grabbed at Angel. Angel moved quickly, but the monster got the end of his trench coat. Angel felt himself being lifted above the ground. He jerked his arms out of the sleeves of the coat just as his feet left the floor. Angel dropped down and landed on his feet. The other junk monster grabbed his arm. Angel pulled, but he couldn't get free. This time when his feet dangled above the floor he couldn't drop down. Angel felt the metal "fingers" digging into his skin and gouging the flesh.   
  
The other monster reached for his legs. Angel couldn't dodge, but he put all of his strength into his legs and kicked. The heavy monster began to teeter back and forth.   
  
In her corner, Jenny sat with her eyes closed muttering the words to an all-purpose counterspell. Collapsing Rio's spell was proving more difficult than she had anticipated. Rio was obviously far more advanced than she'd given him credit for.   
  
Dangling by one arm, Angel watched monster number two teeter. Then he realized something -- when it fell, it was going to fall right on top of Jenny!   
  
It tipped and gravity took over. Angel opened his mouth to shout a warning but the other junk monster chose that moment to grab his twisting legs and start pulling. Angel's shout turned into a gurgle of pain as he tried to get out of the monster's tight hold, but it seemed impossible.   
  
"So be it!" Jenny yelled. The magic binding the junk vanished and debris fell everywhere. Angel found himself falling. He hit the ground on his butt. Debris showered down on his unprotected head -- luckily, none of it big enough to cause a vampire lasting damage.   
  
When the dust and debris settled, Angel looked over at Jenny. "You OK?"   
  
She nodded. She had taken cover under a large piece of sheet metal once she was done casting. "But Rio and the others must be long gone by now."   
  
The door to the warehouse burst open, and Angel and Jenny sprang to their feet, expecting another nasty surprise care of the commando warlock. Instead they saw Amy.   
  
Jenny rushed over to give Amy a hug. "I'm so glad you're all right."   
  
Amy was surprised at her mentor's sudden burst of emotion, but she returned the hug for a second. "I'm glad you guys are OK, too." She paused, and then added, "I know where Rio and Terrance took Faith and Nicole."   
  
The concern on Angel's face vanished into a mask of determination. "Let's go."   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
England: The Compound   
  
The group around the front of the tribunal chamber -- Buffy (still holding Melinda, a.k.a. Blue Eyes), Xander, Doyle, Sonya, Wesley, Cordelia, Oz, Aidan, Gwendolyn, Barrows, Aidan, the Board members close enough to hear and Chamberlain himself -- stared at Giles. Some looked disbelieving. Some looked angry. Most looked shocked beyond belief.   
  
"Chamberlain... Proconsul Sidney Chamberlain is a vampire?" Aidan repeated.   
  
"It can't be," Wesley protested. The crowd in the background started murmuring, wondering what was going on that they couldn't hear. "We have protective measures against vampires on the premises. No one could get away with such a thing..."   
  
Gwendolyn stared at the proconsul. His face had purpled with rage. "Is it true?" she asked him flat out. "Do we add this most heinous charge to your list of dishonorable acts?"   
  
"What are you all talking about?" Chamberlain roared. His voice carried se well that everyone in the chamber could hear him. "I am no vampire. And I have had nothing to do with life force draining individuals or whatever nonsense Ms. Post has the gall to charge me with."   
  
Rage evaporated from the proconsul's face. It was immediately replaced by shock and pain. His gaze encompassed the Board of Directors and all the Watchers in the surrounding seats. "You all know me. The Board nominated me and the rest of you voted on me for this job. Except for one vacation, I have been here, doing my best for you day in and day out. I have implemented measures to equip our forces to fight better and drive back the world of darkness. If something is wrong with those measures, perhaps I chose the wrong people to head them." His accusing gaze moved to Gwendolyn just long enough to get his point across. Then the pain-filled gaze swept the Watchers again. "Do all of you distrust me this much? After all I've given -- my time, my heart, my life -- to this organization?"   
  
Murmurs of affirmation swept the crowd and some of the people who'd begun to suspect Chamberlain looked as if they regretted the hasty decision. Marcus moved to Chamberlain's side in a gesture of solidarity.   
  
"Wait a minute!" Buffy said suddenly. She set Melinda down on the floor. "Don't move, Melinda, or we'll have to come and get you again." Melinda didn't look happy about it, but she stayed put, for the moment. Turning back to Chamberlain, Buffy said, "I never voted for you, but you should have a chance to prove yourself. Someone bring a cross."   
  
The proconsul's face grew cold, but he agreed. "If that is what it takes to prove myself to you, Slayer."   
  
Gwendolyn spoke up in Buffy's defense. "A good Slayer investigates every suspicion of vampires. All Watchers should know that."   
  
In a room full of Watchers, there were plenty of crosses to be had. One of those nearest the front tossed his own personal cross to Buffy. With a challenging look, she held it out to the proconsul. The proconsul hesitated for a brief second, and then he grabbed it. For a second, everyone in the room seemed to hold their breath and wait. Nothing happened.   
  
Chamberlain dropped the cross on the podium, threw his arms wide and called, "You see. It had been proved. I am no more a vampire than the Slayer herself."   
  
Giles's face fell. "I know Ethan isn't trustworthy," he muttered, "but he was so scared, and Ethan is never scared."   
  
Buffy stepped closer to Giles, finally unafraid to show her support to her Watcher, Council-approved Watcher or not. It was the very Council that seemed to need help now. "Is there any way he could have sabotaged the test, Giles? What could make a vampire immune to crosses."   
  
"There is only one thing!" Giles exclaimed. "The Gem of Amara! Ethan said Chamberlain sent him to Sunnydale for something... maybe it was the Gem. Hiding the Gem on the Hellmouth would have been a diabolical plan."   
  
"But the Gem is only a myth," Wesley protested. "There is no evidence that it actually exists. Only vampire bedtime stories."   
  
"The Gem of Amara?" Xander asked, keeping his voice low as the others had, as he darted a glance at Chamberlain. The proconsul stood behind the podium, Marcus at his side, taking in the guilt-ridden apologies of his Board of Directors. "What is that?"   
  
"The Holy Grail of vampires," Giles explained quietly. "It makes them invulnerable to stakes, crosses, fire, sunlight..."   
  
"But does he have it?" Buffy asked. "What does it look like?"   
  
From his position on the podium, a little behind Chamberlain and Marcus, Aidan could hear Giles and the others, but only if he strained his ears and tuned everyone else out. His eyes fell on the ring worn by the proconsul. He'd noticed it earlier and wondered what seemed so familiar about it. Now he knew. The stone in the gold setting was the Gem of Amara! Aidan's mind started to turn rapidly. How could he tell Giles and Buffy without Chamberlain noticing?   
  
"Legend says it's set in a ring..." Giles explained to Buffy and the others.   
  
Chamberlain's gaze settled on Giles, Buffy and the rest with an expression of utter loathing. "Guards!" he called. "As I said before -- capture them! They have all been corrupted by Mr. Giles and his un-Watcherly ways. They must be purified or executed."   
  
"Wait a second!" Board member Lynne Durvaine objected. "Execute the Slayer? Even if they were wrong about you, Chamberlain, that is not an option. She was morally bound to test once an accusation was made."   
  
Chamberlain only had two words to say to that. "Monique Solange." At the mention of the rogue Slayer who'd been executed during the seventeenth century, Lynne's objections trickled off into silence.   
  
"Wait a moment, please!" Barrows said suddenly. "Things are getting way out of control here. This tribunal was only supposed to evaluate how unfit Mr. Giles was for the position of Active Watcher, not evaluate the entirety of our organization and our Slayer. The Council is too important to succumb to such pettiness."   
  
Chamberlain's anger turned on Barrows. "A rogue Slayer is not petty! It is our life's mission jeopardized. The only thing worse than a crippled Slayer is a rogue Slayer. Now, guards, do your job!"   
  
The Watchers in the stands, and even some of the Watchers on the Board, didn't know how to react. They were faced with a man they'd trusted implicitly for years. The man had been charged with all sorts of heinous crimes in the past few minutes, but he'd come through the worst of them unscathed, proving his story right. Who should they believe? A man who'd won their trust many times, or a Watcher found guilty of countless charges, the Slayer trained by such a disreputable Watcher and her friends who shouldn't even be here in the first place. But it went against the grain of a Watcher to attempt to harm a Slayer, despite the story of Monique Solange and her bloody rampage in France.   
  
A few of the guards finally decided to obey the proconsul. One went for Buffy, one for Giles and another for Xander, the apparent ring leaders. Buffy punched hers in the stomach and he flew back a few yards.   
  
"I could have finished you," she called, "but I don't want to hurt anyone." Then she moved to help Giles, incapacitating another guard with a kick to the knee. He hit the floor, howling in pain, but Buffy knew the injury would heal in time.   
  
Xander and his guard traded off punches.   
  
"I don't want to hurt you," Xander said, following Buffy's lead.   
  
"That didn't stop you with me mates upstairs, did it?" the guard hissed angrily.   
  
Buffy turned to help Xander, but more of the guards decided it was time to get in on the action. Now there were opponents available for them all. Even Wesley got his own, much to his dismay.   
  
"I didn't mean anything by it... I was just his council, not his friend... It was an assigned position!" Wesley cried as a guard circled him. The guard sneered at Wesley and taunted him with fake punches. Wesley went green and crumpled to the floor before one punch even hit home.   
  
Cordelia shrieked when a guard grabbed her by the hair. "If I was still strong you'd be sorry!" she snapped. She tried to slap him, but he avoided her flailing blows easily.   
  
"Let the lady go, man!" Doyle grabbed the guard's wrist and wrenched it away from Cordelia's hair.   
  
"Ow!" Cordelia shrieked. Then she realized she was free. "Um... thanks, Doyle."   
  
"No problem, lass..." Doyle started to say, then the guard decked him in the nose. Blood spurted. Doyle hoped it wasn't actually broken, then he threw himself into the fist fight with a vengeance, taking out all his pent-up hostility for Watchers and their lies on this one guard. He rained punches down on the guard like angry rain. He didn't even have to shift into his demon face (which would have been dangerous in this setting) to get the strength to beat the guard into submission -- his human half was furious enough.   
  
When the guard fell to the ground, Doyle launched himself on the man and kept hitting and punching, throwing in the occasional kick for good measure. A pair of hands grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled. "Don't kill him, Doyle!"   
  
At first he thought it was another guard. "Let me go you..." His words trailed off when he realized it was Cordelia. He stopped resisting.   
  
She gestured to the guard laying on the ground, obviously unconscious. "He's done."   
  
Feelings of remorse threatened to overwhelm him. This was the kind of thing he'd always been afraid of since he found out about his demon side. "I... I..."   
  
Cordelia forced him to look her in the eye. Doyle found no loathing in her clear, brown gaze. Just concern and... was that a hint of caring?   
  
"I just wanted to stop you from doing something you'd regret later."   
  
"Thank you, lass."   
  
She opened her mouth to say thank you, then her eyes widened and she cried, "Look out!"   
  
Doyle spun around and found himself with another guard to pound, but this time he promised himself that he wouldn't go too far.   
  
Xander kicked a guard in the stomach and he went down, cracking his head on the floor. The Pseudo-Slayer smirked at the fallen guard. "You should have trained more, slacker. That's what's wrong with Watchers today. You don't train in case you have to fight yourself. You think all you'll ever have to do is watch."   
  
"Watch this!"   
  
Xander turned around just in time to see the fist before it buried itself in his face. "Oof!" The punch rattled the boy's brain in his head, almost causing him to lose his balance.   
  
Buffy glanced up from where she and Giles were working together in their old training patterns to dispatch a combination of four guards. "Xander!" The yell had barely escaped her lips when she saw Marcus's punch send her boyfriend reeling.   
  
She started to run over to him, but a guard got in her way. She smashed a chair over his head. But she couldn't leave Giles with three guards. She knew he couldn't handle it.   
  
"No sweat, Buffy. We've got it." She looked over to see Sonya and Oz there to help.   
  
"Get him," Oz added.   
  
Buffy smiled her thanks and darted over to Xander and Marcus. Part of her mind noticed that her Slayer healing faculties must have kicked in the second she got all of her powers back because her wrenched ankle no longer hurt. She got to Xander's side just in time to see him rise up from the floor with an uppercut to Marcus's chin. The lackey's teeth rattled together, and he stumbled back.   
  
"You can't get rid of me that easily, Marcus," Xander said, throwing another punch to the lackey's face.   
  
Buffy grabbed him from behind, spun him around and hit him in the stomach. "This is for the lies." She yanked his arm, spun him around again and twisted it behind his back. "This is for that stupid test!" Then she kicked him in the balls. "And this is for messing with my friends!"   
  
On the podium, the Watchers watched the brawl with stunned expressions. When Marcus went down, Chamberlain growled in frustration. "The bitch is going to pay for that!"   
  
Aidan and Gwendolyn were the only ones who heard the comment. Aidan knew he couldn't wait any longer. He'd been waiting all this time and it hadn't gotten him anywhere but in more trouble. He had to take a stand, despite the fact that he might get clobbered or even killed.   
  
From his position slightly behind the proconsul, Aidan ripped off his golden judges robe. Then he grabbed Chamberlain's abandoned chair and hit the man over the head with it. Gwendolyn stepped back to give Aidan room. The Board members turned in shock.   
  
Their shock grew when Chamberlain didn't even falter. He just turned to Aidan and said, "You shouldn't have done that, boy!"   
  
Aidan stood his ground. "You're evil, Chamberlain, and I'm going to prove it."   
  
"Here's another one under the influence of Mr. Giles," Chamberlain said, holding on to his composure. "Guards!"   
  
"Your guards are all busy attacking the Slayer and her friends," Aidan replied. "But it doesn't look like they're winning." Then Aidan flung what was left of the chair at the proconsul. The man instinctively jerked to avoid the projectiles, and when he was off balance, Aidan flung himself on the other man. They toppled over the edge of the podium and fell to the ground. Aidan grabbed for the ring on Chamberlain's finger and wrenched it off.   
  
"The Gem of Amara!" Aidan yelled triumphantly, showing it to all the Watchers present. "It's how his charade of humanity worked all this time!" Then he pulled his arm back and hurled with all his might, sending the ring spinning into the sea of spectators. Chamberlain would never be able to get to it.   
  
A low growl caught his attention. Aidan looked down to see Chamberlain in full vamp face. "If I go down, you go down with me." Chamberlain sprang to his feet with a preternatural grace, grabbed Aidan by the collar with superior strength and sank a pair of gleaming fangs into Aidan's neck.   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
Sunnydale: The High School Library   
  
"They brought Faith here?" Angel asked.   
  
Amy nodded. "I followed them, and when I was sure they were staying inside, I came back to get you guys."   
  
"Good work, Amy," Jenny said, pushing her sweat-soaked hair off of her forehead.   
  
The two witches and the vampire snuck around the side of the building until they found a window with a broken lock. Angel pushed it open just enough that they could hear what was going on inside.   
  
"Spike loved this window," Angel whispered. "I caught him out here spying a couple of times. The janitor never remembers to fix the lock."   
  
They peered inside and saw a scene that made the women's blood run cold and Angel's determination triple. Rio had Faith magically bound to the reading table. She wasn't moving at all, except for the slight rise and fall of her chest that indicated she was still breathing. Rio was working over her with some magic paraphernalia that only Jenny could identify. Terrance looked on impatiently, while a greenish Nicole sat in a chair nearby.   
  
"I don't feel well, Terrance," Nicole said, oblivious of the traces of extinguisher foam in her hair and on her clothes. "My head hurts, and I feel nauseous."   
  
"Shut up, Nicole," Terrance snapped. "You'll feel better once we do the ritual." He frowned at Rio. "Are you ready yet?"   
  
"You can't rush magic," Rio replied calmly.   
  
"Yeah, but I can rush you," Terrance replied. "You owe me, remember? You have to do this."   
  
"And then I'm free, right?" Rio muttered.   
  
Terrance laughed.   
  
"Free from what?" Nicole asked, squinting at Terrance.   
  
"It doesn't matter!" Terrance replied. "Nothing matters but getting these bloody powers anchored to our human bodies. Then we can go dance on Angel and Jenny Calendar's graves, and I can dispose of Amy in my own way..."   
  
"I owe him," Rio told Nicole off-handedly. "It's a longstanding family debt. My father owed his father, my grandfather owed his grandfather, all the way back to the day when his great, great, great grandfather interceded on my family's behalf, convincing the Powers that Be that we deserved our magic. Every male in my family since then has been a warlock. But after this spell, perhaps, the debt will finally be paid." But something in Rio's face said he doubted that would ever happen.   
  
"Yeah, whatever. Just get on with it," Terrance replied, ignoring Nicole's astonished look.   
  
"I don't think so!"   
  
Terrance turned to see Angel standing in the doorway, flanked by Amy and Jenny. "Well, the gang's all here."   
  
"Something like that," Angel replied. "But don't think you're going to get away with whatever it is Rio is doing to Faith."   
  
"Just try and stop us," Terrance replied with a smirk. "Nicole, finish the vampire."   
  
"Terrance, I..."   
  
"Nicole! Quit stalling and get on with it!"   
  
Nicole stood up from her chair and wobbled a little bit. She closed her eyes and began to focus on Angel.   
  
The vampire ran toward her, knowing that he had to stop her before she could concentrate long enough to flame him. Nicole and her fiery powers had always been the wild card in any plan of Angel's to finish off the commandos, but experience had taught him that for big jobs it took her time to prepare.   
  
He was almost upon her, and still his skin had not caught fire. Before he could whack her again, Nicole fell to the ground, unconscious. Angel looked up at Terrance with a smirk of his own. "Looks like you should have listened when she said she didn't feel well. That whack across the head I gave her earlier must've been concussion-worthy!"   
  
Terrance yelled in frustration. Suddenly, a bookshelf hurtled toward Angel.   
  
Amy whispered something in Latin, and the bookshelf reversed course. Terrance looked at Amy in surprise. Then he sent a chair spinning towards her head. Angel lunged back, knocking Amy out of the way.   
  
Looking down at her underneath him, Angel asked, "Can you protect me from his powers long enough for me to get to him?"   
  
Amy nodded. "I think so."   
  
"Do it." Angel looked over his shoulder just once to see Jenny advancing on Rio and the magic sparks about to fly. He had to trust the senior witch to save Faith, because right now he had all he could do to take down Terrance.   
  
The blond commando grinned at him maniacally. "I don't think so, vampire." He pulled a stake out of his pocket, and then the bit of pointy wood whistled through the air toward Angel's heart. Angel dove out of the way, and Amy yelled something. The air around Terrance sparkled with blue flecks of light. Terrance tried to move, but couldn't.   
  
"Hurry," Amy gasped, sweat pouring down her brow. "I can't hold this for very long."   
  
Angel didn't have to be told twice. He ran toward Terrance full tilt. When he got there, Amy let the shield go, and Angel pummeled the commando with punches and kicks. Angel heard something whistle behind him, but he trusted Amy to take care of it and didn't take his attention off of Terrance. A desk went crashing down a few feet away, knocked off course by Amy's magic.   
  
"You can't keep this up, Terrance," Angel warned through gritted teeth.   
  
"Try me, Angel." Suddenly, Angel flew up into the air. Terrance, held in Angel's supernaturally strong grip, came along for the ride. Angel's breath whooshed out in a painful gasp as the back of his head hit the ceiling.   
  
"That's it. No more Mr. Nice Vampire," Angel growled, revealing his vampire face.   
  
"Lovely." Terrance spat in Angel's face. "I knew the whole nice guy act was a bloody lie. Vampires are evil fiends."   
  
"No," Angel replied, "You're the evil fiend." Then he let go of Terrance and the commando plummeted back to the floor. When Terrance hit the ground he lost his hold on Angel, and the vampire fell, too, landing hard on top of Terrance. Angel grabbed Terrance around the neck and with one quick motion, snapped his neck. Angel's vamp face dissolved.   
  
But there was no time to rest. Terrance might be dead, but Faith was still at Rio's mercy. Angel and Amy moved closer to the table. Rio and Jenny were staring at each other. Jenny had surrounded herself, and Faith, with a magic shield. Rio was testing it with bolts of his own power, but something about it seemed half-hearted to Angel.   
  
"Rio," Angel said. "Terrance is dead."   
  
The warlock stopped flinging the power bolts and looked around to verify the fact. "So he is." Rio stopped casting all together and examined the situation. "Terrance is dead, and Nicole, well... being unconscious was her doom."   
  
"What?" Amy gasped. They turned to look -- all except Jenny who wasn't letting the warlock out of her sight -- and saw Nicole's flesh turning black around the edges. The horrible odor of burning flesh assailed their nostrils.   
  
Amy blanched. "Can't we do something?"   
  
Rio shook his head. "Nope. Unconscious or not, the stolen power takes energy to maintain. She didn't feed again because she thought I would get her powers stabilized in time. Nicole didn't like the killing."   
  
"Not like Terrance did," Amy said, shivering at the memory of Terrance's hands on her face.   
  
"Not like Terrance did," Rio agreed. He looked away from the charred husk that used to be Nicole, a sad expression on his face. "If only the Council hadn't..." His words trailed off.   
  
"So, what are we going to do here?" Jenny asked, her shield rippling with waves of color.   
  
"Three against one," Angel reminded Rio.   
  
Rio made a motion with his hands and whispered a few words. Suddenly, Faith could move again. She sprang off of the table, but she couldn't get very far with Jenny's shield in the way.   
  
The warlock looked at Angel. "Thank you for killing him and releasing me from my bondage. The blood oath my ancestor took was binding up onto the seventh generation. Luckily, there will be no more generations."   
  
"There won't be any more generations of you either!" Faith spat. "As soon as she drops the shield."   
  
"Wait a second, Faith," Angel cautioned her. "None of this is Rio's fault."   
  
"Like he wasn't going to kill me?" Faith demanded. "Who's side are you on, Angel?"   
  
"Blood oaths are binding," Angel said quietly. "I've come in contact with them before. If he was the victim of one, Rio didn't have much of a choice in his actions." He looked at Jenny for confirmation.   
  
Jenny nodded reluctantly, but her glare toward the warlock hadn't lessened. However, neither had her sheild, and, now, the magic boundary was more to keep Faith in than to keep Rio out.   
  
Amy thought back to Rio's words in the warehouse. They made so much more sense now. She still didn't want to be alone with the warlock in a dark alley, but maybe... "I think we should give him a chance."   
  
"A chance to do what? Kill us all?" Faith demanded. Turning to Jenny, she yelled, "Let me out of this thing, now!"   
  
"Faith," Rio said, looking her in the eyes, "I'm sorry for what has happened here. It was not by my design, though I did do my part. I am ready to repay you all for what I did because of that blood oath."   
  
"You could stay here," Angel said.   
  
"In Sunnydale?" Rio raised a quizzical eyebrow in the vampire's direction.   
  
"Yes," Angel answered. "You could stay here and help us fight against the demons that are attracted to the Hellmouth in our midst. A sort of... restitution for damages done." He looked at Faith. "And you could stay and make sure he does it."   
  
Jenny finally dropped her sheild. Directing a dark gaze at Rio, she said, "If he does stay here, there will be more than one person to make sure he stays on the straight and narrow... and that he makes full amends for his actions."   
  
Faith crossed her arms in front of her chest and gave Rio a hard look. "Fine, but if he screws up, he gets to answer to me."   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
England: The Compound   
  
Aidan could feel his lifeblood draining out of his body and into the vampire who had been posing as the proconsul of the Watchers' Council for who knew how many months.   
  
"No!" someone yelled. Doyle. The half-demon ran at Chamberlain, but the vampire knocked the weakened Doyle back with one hand, never lifting his fangs from Aidan's neck.   
  
Blackness started creeping up the sides of Aidan's vision.   
  
Buffy scooped up the leg of a broken chair and began moving toward Chamberlain, flanked by Xander. The guards had stopped attacking when they realized the truth about the proconsul.   
  
"Xander, you get Aidan. I'll get Chamberlain," Buffy whispered.   
  
"Divide and conquer," Xander replied. "I like it."   
  
But it was Melinda who got there first. "Daddy! I'm hungry. Share with me." She reached up and grabbed his bare hand with her own. A blue glow enveloped the three of them. Chamberlain spasmed and his fangs came out of the Watcher's neck, though he didn't let go of Aidan's shoulders.   
  
"No!" Xander shouted. "You can't have Aidan!" He wasn't sure if he was talking about Melinda or Chamberlain. Xander ran toward the trio and grabbed Aidan. For an instant, he felt the power of Melinda's hunger threatening to drain him through Chamberlain and Aidan. But he couldn't succomb to it. Xander pulled with all his might, and Aidan came free. Giles was there to grab Aidan's unconscious body and pull it out of danger. Giles started checking him over, trying to see if he would live. Then Gwendolyn was next to him. Giles looked up in surprise.   
  
"I called downstairs," she told him. "Someone's coming with some blood and a stretcher."   
  
"Since when...?" Giles didn't even get to finish his question before she answered.   
  
"Since the experiments started."   
  
Buffy stood still, staring at Melinda and Chamberlain. Xander scooped up a chair leg of his own and moved to stand beside her.   
  
Chamberlain's skin began to turn brown, and they could smell his undead flesh burning up from the inside. He screamed in agony. Melinda screamed, too.   
  
Xander couldn't wait any longer. He moved closer and burried the wooden shaft in the vampire's heart without getting caught in the blue glow himself. A moment later, Chamberlain crumbled into a pile of ashes, leaving Melinda standing there, a demonic visage covering what had once been an innocent little girl face.   
  
Buffy hesitated for a moment longer, wondering if it would go away. But it didn't. Then Melinda sprang toward Buffy. In one move, Buffy staked Melinda, and little Blue Eyes's ashes settled down, coating the ashes that had once been Chamberlain.   
  
Silence settled over the room. Everyone looked at everyone else, wondering what, if anything, would happen next. There was a communal gasp as the doors burst open, but it was just two medics with several pints of blood.   
  
"Over here," Gwendolyn called.   
  
The medics came and hoisted Aidan onto a stretcher, attaching the IV to his arm.   
  
"Will he be a'right?" Doyle asked, creeping over to the side of the stretcher and staring down at his friend's pale face.   
  
"If we get enough blood pumped into him," the medic answered brusquely. The second medic pushed Doyle out of the way as they began wheeling Aidan away.   
  
"Where are they takin' him?" Doyle asked.   
  
"Downstairs," Gwendolyn replied. Seeing Doyle's horror, she added, "Don't worry. Nothing will happen to him." She looked around at the stunned, shell-shocked Watchers that filled the room. "I think it's high time that the Council takes stock of the reality of our situation, and makes some long overdue changes. And I think that everyone here realizes that now." A small smile curved her lips as she realized something. Everything she had been working for since finding out the truth of Chamberlain's project had come to pass. The Council would be purged, and everything would finally be all right.   
  
Her gaze landed on Buffy, then on Giles and Xander, Sonya and Oz, and Doyle and Cordelia. "Thank you."   
  
Giles stepped forward and shook Gwendolyn's hand. "Thank you." Buffy smiled at her.   
  
"Um... excuse me?"   
  
Everyone looked down to see Wesley coming to.   
  
"What, Wesley?" Giles asked.   
  
"Could someone... er... tell me what happened?" Wesley looked around in confusion, wiping vampire ash off of his glasses.   
  
Buffy couldn't help it. She burst into laughter, and the others soon joined in. She looked up and right into Xander's loving, chocolate brown eyes. "Hi," she whispered, choking off her hysterical giggles.   
  
"Hi, yourself," he said, giving her a small taste of his sexy, lopsided grin.   
  
Buffy reached up and kissed Xander. He responded fiercely, hugging her to him as tightly as possible.   
  
"Um... guys?" Oz said suddenly, interrupting the moment. Buffy and Xander broke apart and looked at him questioningly.   
  
"We forgot about Joyce..." 


	23. Chapter 22

In the Space of a Journey  
Chapter Twenty-Two   
  
England   
  
When the commotion died down at the Compound, Gwendolyn arranged for Giles to borrow a car from the Council's amply supplied garage. The Board and the rest of the Watchers, as needed, were going to stay at the Compound as long as necessary to sort out this huge mess and make things right. Giles's sentencing was put on hold, and he, Buffy and the rest of the gang were free to leave, but they were requested to be ready to return in two days' time.   
  
"That should be enough time for us to make some headway, at least," Gwendolyn had told them. "We know you all have flights home soon, so we will do our best to sort everything out that pertains to your group by then."   
  
After that, Oz, Cordelia and Buffy went to find Joyce and the get-away car and to go back to Nigel's for their things. Everyone else, except for Doyle, rode back to their hotel with Giles in what they dubbed the Watcher-mobile, hoping to find new rooms. It was understood that Giles, Xander and especially Sonya had no desire to see Nigel and relive what his alter-ego had done to them. They sent their thanks along in verbal messages. Doyle stayed at the Compound, unwilling to leave Aidan even to the point of staying with him in one of the rooms on the bottom level of the Compound. This time he knew that the others knew where he was, just in case, though even Doyle felt that Gwendolyn and the Board were finally telling them the truth.   
  
Buffy, Oz and Cordelia walked to where the get-away car was hidden. They found Joyce asleep in the front seat, her head laying against the headrest.   
  
"Mom!" Buffy cried, opening the door to give Joyce a hug.   
  
Joyce's eyes sprang open, and then her tense expression relaxed into a huge smile as she returned the hug full force. "Buffy! You're all right!"   
  
"I'm fine, Mom. And everyone else is, too. Doyle, Sonya, Xander... even Giles."   
  
"Thank goodness." Joyce's breath came out in a whoosh. When she finally let Buffy go, it was with a rueful laugh. "I'm glad everything turned out all right, especially since I'm such a pitiful excuse for a get-away driver."   
  
"It's not your fault, Mom," Buffy was quick to say.   
  
"No, no," Joyce replied, shaking her head. "I fell asleep at my post. Now you'll never let me help again."   
  
"It's not your fault," Oz said, feeling the need to put his two-cents in. "We were gone much longer than expected."   
  
"Yeah," Cordelia nodded. "And you woke up really quickly. I'm sure it wouldn't have been a problem..."   
  
A few minutes later they were on the road to Nigel's shop. He was waiting for them near the door when they arrived. As soon as he saw Buffy, a small smile curved his lips. Buffy tried to stop the shivers that ran up and down her spine when he did that. She knew good and well it was Nigel, not Nathan, and usually she could deal with it. It was just that smile... the smile so like the one Nathan had used before almost carving her up as a sacrifice for his powers.   
  
"Miss Summers," Nigel said. "I'm glad to see you escaped unscathed."   
  
She nodded at him, grateful when his attention turned to the others.   
  
He escorted them all into his workroom, looking closely at Oz and Cordelia. "And the spell worked fine? No ill effects?"   
  
Oz nodded. "Fine."   
  
Cordelia gave Oz an annoyed glance. "Well, when the powers went back to Buffy, I, for one, felt perfectly horrible. For a few minutes. But I'm back to my old self now."   
  
"Good," Nigel replied, taking her comments seriously. He handed Cordelia a slip of paper. "This is my home number. Feel free to call me anytime if symptoms resurface." His dark eyes fixated on Oz. "You, too. And how is your leg?"   
  
"Fine," Oz said again. He stood on just the formerly broken leg and hopped a couple of time for emphasis.   
  
Nigel nodded. "Good."   
  
Joyce walked over to Nigel and gave him a hug. "Thank you so much for all of your help."   
  
The warlock seemed surprised at first, but after a second he returned the hug until she pulled away. "I am glad to be of service, Ms. Summers."   
  
Soon after, they had the baggage loaded in the trunk, and in every spare nook and cranny in the car (even under some of the passengers), and were on their way back to the hotel.   
  
"I hope they managed to get us good rooms," Buffy said as they walked into the lobby.   
  
"The best!"   
  
Buffy laughed as Xander suddenly swooped her up, bags and all. She shrieked in protest until he let her down. "We were in luck, Buffy. We got our old rooms back."   
  
"Good," Cordelia said, hitching a bag up onto her shoulder. "I desperately need a shower."   
  
"Slaying is sweaty work," Buffy agreed.   
  
Cordelia gave Buffy one of her old, superior glances. "As if I'd discuss my sweat with you."   
  
Buffy raised an eyebrow. Then she set down the bags she had been carrying -- two of Cordelia's cream-colored bags. "Well, then, I guess I'm not worthy to carry your bags either. Here you go." She grabbed Xander's arm. "Come with me back to the car. We'll get our own stuff."   
  
"Sounds good to me," Xander replied, following her out.   
  
"How rude!" Cordelia sniffed, finding herself in the lobby with more baggage than she could carry. Luckily, at that moment, a cute bellhop happened by. Cordelia flashed him one of her 100 mega-watt smiles, and he was putty in her hands.   
  
By the time Buffy and Xander got the right luggage, found Giles to get their keys and made it upstairs to the girls' room, the shower was already running, and they could hear a soft, off-key rendition of "Fame" through the closed door to the bathroom.   
  
Setting down Buffy's weapons bag, Xander gave the closed door a slightly horrified look. "What now?"   
  
Buffy pretended to contemplate. "Free time in London. Whatever shall we do?"   
  
Xander leaned in closer. "There's always Big Ben."   
  
Buffy leaned up until he could feel the puff of her breath on his face. "And the Tube."   
  
Her perfume smelled of citrus, reminding him of home, as he added, "The Tower of London."   
  
"Buckingham Palace."   
  
Any more words were squelched by their kiss. Buffy shivered at the feel of Xander's warm hands on her back.   
  
"It's been way too long," she mumbled into his lips.   
  
He understood her anyway. "Much, much too long. Let's never go to a tribunal again."   
  
Buffy pressed her lips more firmly against his for a minute, then said, "Never, ever again."   
  
The door to the room flew open. "Oh, man! Can I go back to the torture chamber now?"   
  
Xander and Buffy sprang apart to see Sonya there grinning at them, Oz behind her. They brought in more luggage and set it on the floor.   
  
"Joyce and Sonya's stuff," Oz explained.   
  
Buffy nodded, trying to control her blushing. "Cordelia's in the shower."   
  
"Oh, good," Sonya joked. "Wouldn't want her to have smelly Slayer hair." She and Buffy burst into giggles.   
  
Oz looked pained. "Do I have smelly Slayer hair?"   
  
Through her laughter, Sonya made a big show of inspecting Oz's hair. "No, I think you survived your stint as Slayer with your hair unscathed."   
  
"Whew!" Oz cracked a smile. He was just glad to have them all back and everyone all right.   
  
Xander was staring at Sonya. "I'm glad you're back, Parker."   
  
She looked surprised at his use of the nickname. It had been a long time since things were easy enough between them for them to use those names. She gave him an almost shy smile, uncertain as to where their friendship was now, but ready to give it a try. "It's good to be back, Harris."   
  
After an awkward moment, the two old friends shared a quick hug. Buffy and Oz shared understanding looks, both glad that the other two had finally patched things up.   
  
"So," Sonya said when the moment had passed, "what are we going to do with this sudden vacation time?"   
  
"It is still Spring Break," Oz commented.   
  
Buffy looked at Xander. Suppressing a giggle, she told the others, "Xander and I were... discussing... sight seeing when you guys got here."   
  
"Personally, I'm starving." Sonya rubbed her stomach for emphasis. "My vote would be to find dinner first. Then do something touristy and Londony."   
  
"I'm in," Xander said, looking at Buffy.   
  
She smiled. "I'm in, too."   
  
They all looked at Oz. "Let's go."   
  
"Ack! What are all of you doing in my room?"   
  
The four friends turned around to see Cordelia staring at them from the steamy bathroom doorway, wrapped only in a towel.   
  
Xander whistled at her. "Show us those shoulders, baby!" The others laughed. Cordelia's face reddened.   
  
"Get out of here, you jerk! All of you."   
  
Buffy raised an eyebrow at Cordelia. "I can't believe we're back to this again."   
  
"What can you expect from the Sunnydale High princess?" Sonya replied. "I guess she's forgotten that it's our room, too."   
  
"Well, let's just go to dinner," Buffy said. "Obviously, *she* doesn't want to come."   
  
With that, the four friends left Cordelia alone in the hotel room. Later, Joyce found her lying on a bed, wearing the first clothes she'd found in the suitcase -- jeans and a T-shirt, comfy but not trendy -- her hair still wet.   
  
"Is everything all right?" Joyce asked, looking at Cordelia in concern. "I thought you would have gone to dinner with Buffy and the others, but you're welcome to come with Giles and me if you'd like. We weren't up for the night on the town thing, so we're just going to get some food and then turn in for the night."   
  
Cordelia's voice was muffled by her pillow. Joyce couldn't understand what she said. "Excuse me? I didn't quite catch that." Joyce sat down on the bed next to Cordelia. The brunette lifted her face to reveal tear-stained cheeks.   
  
"What's wrong?" Joyce demanded. "Nothing else has happened, has it? No after effects from the spell or anything?"   
  
Cordelia shook her head.   
  
"Then what is it?"   
  
"Everyone hates me," Cordelia mumbled, laying her head back down on the pillow so she wouldn't have to look at Joyce.   
  
"No one hates you," Joyce protested.   
  
"They do," Cordelia wailed. "And... and... I think it's all my fault. I'm too selfish and demanding."   
  
Joyce couldn't really contradict that. After a moment, she said, "You do have a those tendencies, but that's not all you are."   
  
"Yes, it is. That's why they all left me here."   
  
"You also helped to save their lives. They won't forget that."   
  
Cordelia sniffled again. "That makes it even worse. I felt so strong when I was a Slayer. Even just being a third of a Slayer. I could do anything. I was like Supergirl, but with much better hair! And now I'm back to being just me. And, for the first time, just me isn't the best."   
  
Reasons for Cordelia's reversion to familiar patters began to connect in Joyce's mind. She reached out and touched Cordelia on the shoulder, waiting until the girl met her eyes before speaking. "What do you want out of this, Cordelia?" She racked her brain for something to say that would make the girl feel better. "You and I are kind of in the same boat. We weren't supposed to know about all this, and yet we found out. Oz, too. And Xander. But after we find these things out, it's up to us to decide what we want to do about it."   
  
"What do you mean?"   
  
"Well," Joyce replied, "you could go back to being just what you were before. This doesn't have to be your life, like it is for Buffy, Xander and Sonya. Oz still has his band and other interests. I work, live my life... I just take extra precautions and help out when they need me."   
  
"I wouldn't be a good career superhero." A small frown curved her lips down and made a wrinkle in the middle of her forehead.   
  
"Not many people would," Joyce agreed.   
  
"But Xander is. And Oz. Sonya, too." The frown worsened.   
  
Joyce nodded. "They are." She paused, and then continued, "I wonder how Sonya dealt with losing her powers. From what I remember, not very well."   
  
"Really?" Cordelia looked up, startled. "I don't remember anything like that... Of course, we sort of hate each other so we never do the girlie chat thing."   
  
"It's true," Joyce swore. "Sonya didn't like not being the Slayer anymore at all. She went through all sorts of stuff trying to adjust. Of course, getting her legs back and an added bonus of instantaneous healing made things better."   
  
"I'm never going to get that," Cordelia groused.   
  
"No," Joyce admitted, "you probably aren't, but that doesn't mean you're worthless by any means." Joyce stood up and pulled the blanket from the end of the bed up over Cordelia's body. "I think what you need is a good night's sleep. Everything always looks better in the morning."   
  
The warmth of the blanket coupled with residual crying-jag exhaustion made that sound like a good idea to Cordelia. "All right, and... thanks."   
  
Joyce smiled. "Don't mention it. And if you ever need to talk something like this out again, I'm available."   
  
Cordelia flashed a brief smile and then closed her eyes.   
  
Joyce walked over to the mirror and double checked her hair and makeup for a night out in London. True, it was only dinner, but she did hope to have a little fun on what might be her only time off in the famous city. There was a knock at the door, and Joyce crossed the room to open it.   
  
Giles stood there, a hesitant look on his face. "Are you ready?" He peeked inside and saw Cordelia on the bed. "Is she all right?"   
  
Joyce grabbed her purse and the room key, then she walked outside, closing the door behind her. "She'll be OK once she has time to adjust. I guess that's something we all need every once in awhile."   
  
Giles nodded.   
  
"So," Joyce said, eager to change the subject. "Where are we going for dinner?"   
  
"There's a small bistro I used to frequent when I lived in Town. I thought we could see if it is still there."   
  
Joyce smiled at him. "That sounds lovely!"   
  
Ever the English gallant, Giles offered her his arm and escorted her out of the hotel.   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
Several miles away, in the bowels of the Compound, Doyle sat next to Aidan's bed. His friend had been unconscious since Chamberlain tried to drain him. Despite assurances from Watcher-trained doctors, Doyle was beginning to wonder if Aidan would ever wake up again.   
  
"C'mon, man," Doyle urged quietly. "Open yer eyes. We've got to talk. Get everythin' ironed out. I donnae want me best pal in a lifelong coma..." His voice trailed off, and Doyle closed his eyes and buried his head in his hands.   
  
"I didn't know you cared that much. Especially after I threw you out of my flat."   
  
Doyle opened his eyes, and his face split into a wide grin when he saw Aidan looking at him. His friend's eyes were tired and his face still a bit pale, but he was awake, and that was a good thing!   
  
"Yer awake!" Doyle exclaimed. He resisted the urge to hug Aidan. Besides the fact that it wouldn't be manly, Doyle also doubted if the other man could handle the exuberance.   
  
"Yeah." Aidan moved a little and then grunted with the effort. "But apparently still weak. Chamberlain must've gotten more than a mouthful from me."   
  
Doyle nodded. "I was afraid he'd drained ye before Xander an' Buffy pulled ye free. But Gwendolyn and the doctor's here took good care of ye."   
  
"And you've been here how long?" Aidan gave him a knowing look. Doyle knew he couldn't get anything past his oldest friend.   
  
"As long as ye have," the Irishman admitted.   
  
Aidan met Doyle's eyes with a serious gaze. "I have to tell you something, Doyle."   
  
"What?"   
  
"I'm sorry." Aidan looked incredibly guilty. "I'm sorry that I believed the Council, and Chamberlain, instead of you. I'm sorry I didn't believe in your vision. And, most of all, I'm sorry that I threw you out of my flat. I regretted it as soon as you were gone."   
  
Doyle grinned. "Thanks, man. Hearin' that from ye makes me feel a lot better. An' I'm sorry I was such a bad roommate. I should have been more understandin' of yer new lifestyle, lack o' accent and all." He paused, and then added with a laugh, "So... when should I help you bust outta this joint?"   
  
"I don't know," Aidan replied, "but I hope it's soon. I'm starting to get hungry."   
  
Jumping up, Doyle laid a hand on Aidan's shoulder and said, "No sooner said than done." He walked out the door, and a few minutes later returned with a doctor, a tray of food, and Gwendolyn.   
  
Aidan looked up at Gwendolyn in surprise as the doctor started checking him over. "Ms. Post. I'm surprised to see you here."   
  
Gwendolyn gave him a small half smile. "There are a few things I need to go over with you, and then I have a proposition for you."   
  
Aidan gave her his full attention, wondering what she had to say.   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
When Buffy, Giles and the rest of their group were escorted into the tribunal room two days later, the whole Compound had an entirely different feeling. Buffy noticed it the second she walked into the building, but nowhere was it more evident than in the tribunal room. The seats were again filled with Watchers, but there was no feeling of dread, or of anger lingering in the air. Instead, all she could see on the surrounding faces was hope and anticipation.   
  
"What do you think is going to happen?" Buffy whispered to Giles as they made their way to the front of the room.   
  
"I don't know," Giles replied honestly, "but I have every hope that it is something positive."   
  
"Yeah," Xander agreed, taking Buffy's hand in his own and squeezing it tight. "The Council's been cleaned from the inside out. Things are bound to be better."   
  
"Maybe they'll reinstate you," Sonya whispered to Giles.   
  
He gently touched his ward on the shoulder. The touch lasted only a second, but it reassured them both. "It's never been done before," he said, "but anything is possible, I suppose."   
  
From the front of the room, Gwendolyn called for all of them to come to the front, not just Buffy and Giles. Obediently, Sonya, Joyce, Cordelia, Xander and Oz followed the Slayer and the Watcher to the front. The Board of the Directors were seated in their accustomed seats at the front, and Gwendolyn stood in front of the podium, on the same level as Giles and the others. When they got up there, Buffy and the others were glad to see Aidan and Doyle there as well. Aidan had recovered nicely from Chamberlain's attack, and there was something about his appearance that gave him a new pride and dignity. Buffy thought he looked nice, for an older man.   
  
John Warrington stood up to speak for the Board. When everyone was situated, he began his speech.   
  
"Together, the Board and every member of the Council who could be called in have gone over our exalted organization with a fine-toothed comb. For nearly as long as there have been Slayers, there have been Watchers. We have been entrusted with a sacred duty, and I know that myself, and everyone in this room, will do our best to continue in that duty. As with any organization, times of trouble occur, and without our knowledge, this past year has been fraught with trouble. We have determined a new course of action, and we hope that these measures will take the Council into the next millenium."   
  
When Warrington paused for breath, the room full of Watchers began to applaud. Warrington smiled.   
  
"As the first of many acts," he announced when the room was quiet again, "the Board has nominated Ms. Gwendolyn Post to succeed Sidney Chamberlain as Proconsul of the Council. In a vote yesterday, our recommendation was approved by the Council, and she was sworn to the proper oaths. So, now, I would like to hand control of this meeting over to Proconsul Post." The room full of people broke into applause again.   
  
Gwendolyn accepted the affirmation with a simple nod, and then stepped forward and took charge as if she'd been doing this all of her life. "Since even before my promotion, I have been working night and day to restore the order that was stolen from us, and to that end, I have several announcements and appointments to make."   
  
She looked to Buffy, Giles and the others. "First of all, I want to extend to you..." Her gaze trailed over all of them, even Joyce. "...the most humble apologies of the entire Council. Things were handled very badly, and many of you were hurt by that. It wasn't right, and anything we can do to make amends, we will." Realizing that there wasn't much more she could say on that regard -- so much of what was done could never really be made up for -- Gwendolyn moved on to her next topic.   
  
"Mr. Giles, could you step forward please?"   
  
Giles did as she asked, a curious look on his face. Gwendolyn's face was inscrutable. He couldn't tell anything about what she was about to say, so he just had to wait until she actually said it.   
  
"As you know, Mr. Giles, a tribunal decision is irreversible. It has been so for centuries, and it will be so for many more. Added to that is the fact that, however well-intentioned, you did commit many of the crimes of which you were accused."   
  
Giles inclined his head. "That I did." But the hopeless look from the last sentencing had gone from his eyes. Somehow he knew that things were not as dire as they once were.   
  
Gwendolyn continued, "Therefore, we cannot reinstate you as Active Watcher." There was a loud gasp of protest from Buffy, and one from Sonya, but the proconsul continued before anyone could interrupt her. "However, we have re-evaluated the testimonies and the evidence and found the crimes not nearly as heinous as Chamberlain and Barrows made them out to be. Therefore, on behalf of the Council, I would like to offer you a new position as head of our training facilities. Your assignment will be to determine a new course of training for all the potential Slayers, apprentice Watchers and any other warriors we choose to train to help in the war against darkness." She looked at him seriously. "I'm sure you will agree that a new course of training is exactly what we need to remove Chamberlain's taint from our students and to ensure a new direction for the Council in general."   
  
Giles nodded. "I agree that it is needed."   
  
"Then do you accept the position?" Gwendolyn asked.   
  
Giles hesitated for a moment. He knew that taking the job meant a relocation to England. That was obvious to everyone. He glanced back at Buffy, Sonya and the others. If he went back, he'd be only a librarian. Here he could find his old life again, and do good work. He would miss them, but there was one other thing weighing his decision. If he went back to Sunnydale, he would have to stand by while some other Watcher took over his duties.   
  
Finally, he nodded. "I accept."   
  
"Good."   
  
Gwendolyn turned to Buffy. Buffy stepped forward, a stunned expression on her face. Gwendolyn tried to put her at ease. "I know what you must be thinking, but, I think in the long run, this change will be good for you. You will have your very own Watcher, one of our best. It can only improve your skills."   
  
A frown line appeared between Buffy's eyebrows. "But... who...?"   
  
The proconsul said, "Aidan O'Shea, will you approach?" Aidan did as she asked, and Gwendolyn turned back to Buffy. Raising her voice so the whole room could hear, she announced, "The new Active Watcher will be our own Aidan O'Shea, a young man, yes, but one who has proven himself both as a trainer and in the line of duty."   
  
The Watchers applauded again, and Aidan replied, "I accept the position, and all that it entails." His official swearing in would take place later, in accordance with custom.   
  
Unsurprised by his acceptance since she had told him her plan already, Gwendolyn looked to Buffy. "This will be a good change."   
  
Buffy sighed, aware that she couldn't do anything about it. She would miss Giles a lot -- it was funny how she realized that now that she knew he would be gone -- but there was a little part of her that was kind of glad for the chance to have her very own Watcher. And, aside from Giles, Aidan was the nicest Watcher she knew.   
  
Seeing the acceptance on Buffy's face, Gwendolyn asked Xander to approach. Buffy looked surprised and stayed where she was. Giles and Aidan stepped back to their old spots, knowing that she was done with them for now.   
  
"Yes?" Xander asked, as surprised as Buffy that Gwendolyn would call on him.   
  
"First of all, I want to congratulate you, Mr. Harris," Gwendolyn said. "Few humans without special powers could survive in the lifestyle you have chosen for yourself."   
  
Xander blushed a little at the praise. "Well... thanks."   
  
She continued, "You have distinguished yourself repeatedly, both in Sunnydale, and here. Despite the odds, you helped defeat Chamberlain, and bring order back to the Council. Your aptitude is enormous."   
  
Buffy smiled proudly at Xander. She had always known that, but, from the expression on his face, it was news to Xander. Most authority figures, like teachers, always came down on him. Never before had he been the one honored in front of an assembly.   
  
"I don't know what to say," Xander admitted.   
  
Gwendolyn gave him her small smile, unable to squelch a gleam of excitement in her icy blue eyes. "Being a Watcher is destiny. It follows a family from generation to generation. But sometimes a person so distinguishes him or herself that we ask them to become a member of our Council." Her eyes flashed to Aidan -- a distant relative of a Watcher, not the son of one -- and to Giles -- who's grandmother had been so distinguished. Then she looked back at Xander. "You are just the type of person we need as we build our next generation of Watchers. You have strength, courage and experience in the line of battle. You will not just watch, but you will devote your all to a cause. Will you join us?"   
  
Xander's eyes were wide. "You want me to be a Watcher?"   
  
Gwendolyn nodded. "We do."   
  
He looked up at the Board, and they were smiling at him, too. He had never felt this much approval from distinguished, older people before. He was about to shout his acceptance, when something occurred to him. He looked down at Buffy. The same thing had occurred to her, too.   
  
"I'll have to stay in England, won't I?" he asked.   
  
Gwendolyn nodded, "For a while, yes, though the length will depend on Mr. Giles's revamping of the training system."   
  
Xander looked down at Buffy. She looked back up at him, tears forming in the corners of her eyes. Xander looked back at Gwendolyn. "Can I think about it?"   
  
She nodded. That was to be expected. Then she asked Sonya to approach. The conversation between the two women was brief. Sonya left it with no expression on her face. Later, however, she told the others what Gwendolyn had said. Sonya was released from all obligations to the Council, except what she wanted to retain herself. The Council would make sure she was cared for until her graduation from high school, and, as part of their restitution for the wrongs committed to her, they would pay for her to attend college. But her former status as the Chosen one no longer bound her in any way.   
  
There wasn't much left after that. Gwendolyn gave them all her thanks again, and then it was over. The Scooby Gang left the Compound -- for some of them, it would be their last time -- and headed back to the hotel to pack up their bags. Flights home would soon be waiting.   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
Back at the hotel, Buffy didn't follow the others upstairs. She wandered through the lobby and out the side door into a small, but well-tended garden. The smell of roses tickled her nostrils, and sunlight warmed her skin. She wondered how the world could still be so beautiful when her own world was suddenly falling apart.   
  
"Hi."   
  
She turned and saw Xander standing there, his hands in his pockets.   
  
"Hey," she whispered.   
  
He led her to a stone bench and then sat down next to her. "We have to talk about this."   
  
"I know." Buffy looked up at him, tears in the corners of her eyes threatening to spill over the edge.   
  
Xander stared down at his shoes. "I love you, Buffy. After everything we've been through, you know that."   
  
"I know," she whispered again. "But..."   
  
"No buts," Xander protested. "I love you here, there and everywhere."   
  
She couldn't help but smile a little at that.   
  
Xander continued, "It hurts me to think of being apart from you, Buffy. You've gotta know that. But... this is the first time in my life that I've gotten an opportunity like this. No one's ever asked me to do anything worthwhile before. I always thought I was headed for a future as... as an ice cream man or something."   
  
Buffy reached out and touched Xander's arm. "I never thought you'd end up an ice cream man."   
  
He looked at her, his heart in his eyes.   
  
Buffy sighed. "I know you need to do this. And I support you, I really do..." Her voice cracked. "It's just... well... first Giles, and I could understand that, but now you? I'm going to miss you so much!" After her rather incoherent speech, she threw herself into his arms.   
  
But, like always, Xander understood her. "I know. I'll miss you, too. Every second I'm away. But I'm going to do this the right way, and as fast as I possibly can so that I can come back and be with you again. I promise."   
  
"I'm holding you to that." They hugged tightly, and then kissed as if their lives depended on it.   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
Upstairs, Joyce, Cordelia and Sonya worked to pack up all the luggage. A knock at the door disturbed their rhythm.   
  
"Who is it?" Cordelia called. She knew it was still daytime, but after the attack on her room she would never just say "come in" again.   
  
"Giles."   
  
"Come in," Joyce responded. She smiled when the door opened and she got a good look at him. He was standing taller already. She could see the anticipation in his eyes. "You look excited."   
  
"I am," he admitted. "I really am. I'm going to be able to make a difference for the Council. And for Xander, if he stays."   
  
"Do you think he will?" Joyce pictured Buffy without Xander and knew how hard it would be for her daughter. But she also wanted Xander to take this amazing opportunity.   
  
"I hope so," Giles replied.   
  
Something occurred to Joyce. "Um... Giles... Xander's relationship with Buffy... that wouldn't be a problem for the Council, would it?" She knew very well that that could be the deal breaker for both of them.   
  
Giles shook his head. "No, that won't be a problem. There are strict measures against a Watcher getting involved with his or her own Slayer, but for another Watcher and a Slayer... well... it has happened before. And the Council knew about Xander and Buffy before they made the offer."   
  
"Good," Joyce said. She finished folding the last of Buffy's things and looked up at Giles. "I will miss you, though. You were a good, solid influence on Buffy." As she said the words, Joyce realized that they really were true. There would definitely be a void in all of their lives without Giles in Sunnydale.   
  
"Thank you," Giles replied. "But Aidan will be admirable in the role, I'm sure."   
  
Suddenly, they all heard a stifled sob from the other side of the room. It was Sonya. Realizing Giles needed a moment alone with his ward, Joyce said, "Cordelia, come downstairs with me. We'll tell the bellhop when to come up and get the bags."   
  
Cordelia's gaze flashed from one to the other. "Um... all right," she said quickly. She didn't need to be involved in another bout of emotional wellness.   
  
As soon as the door closed behind Joyce and Cordelia, Giles turned to Sonya. "I know this is going to be hard..."   
  
"You don't know anything!" Sonya cried angrily. But tears belied her harsh words. "You've got a new job and everything here, but I'm going to be stuck back in Sunnydale, alone, again! And to think I trusted you!"   
  
Giles grabbed Sonya's hands and forced her to look into his eyes. "You will never cease to be an important part of my life, Sonya. If you want, you can live here with me. But I didn't think you'd want to leave Sunnydale..."   
  
Sonya looked up and her shell of anger melted away when she saw a tear in his eye, too. "You'd really want me here?"   
  
Giles nodded. "I would. But I know that you want to be in Sunnydale."   
  
"I want to be in Sunnydale with you," Sonya replied, "but I know that won't happen..."   
  
"Not right now," Giles admitted. "I've got to do this. It's this or quit the Council. And I can do good here..."   
  
"You can, Giles," Sonya agreed. "And I'm proud of you."   
  
Then he shocked her by pulling her into a hug. After that moment of affection, Sonya got up the courage to ask, "What's going to happen to me? Gwendolyn said the Council will make sure I'm 'cared for,' but does that mean more foster homes or what?" There was small quaver in her voice. She do anything to avoid living in a foster home again.   
  
"Your official wardship will easily transfer to Aidan. The Council has connections. Officially, that will make sense, and, unofficially, you are almost of an age to take care of yourself. I know you are competent to the task. More than competent."   
  
Sonya nodded. "It won't be the same, but I guess it will work."   
  
"Good." Giles gave her one of his rare smiles, the one of the ones that brightened his whole face, and she knew it was just for her. "And I promise you that we will keep in touch."   
  
"I know you aren't just saying that," Sonya said, returning the smile. "But you may regret it when your phone bill is way up there."   
  
"I'll never regret it," Giles told her. "I promise."   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
It was a somber group that headed for the airport. It took some doing, but the Council had changed Cordelia's ticket so she could fly back with the rest of the Sunnydale group. She figured her father would be grateful not to have to meet her. They also changed Giles's ticket and put it into Aidan's name. Doyle was able to get on the same flight, as well, due to a little more Council string pulling.   
  
"I guess it can help havin' Watchers' on yer side," Doyle remarked as they waited at the gate to board the plane.   
  
"What are you going to do now?" Aidan asked his friend.   
  
Doyle shrugged. "Go back to me apartment and me sordid life in LA, I suppose."   
  
"I don't think so," Aidan objected.   
  
"What?" Doyle replied in astonishment. "Are ye goin' all high and mighty on me now? Because I've got a few stories..."   
  
"No." Aidan shook his head. "But I think you should move to Sunnydale. We're going to be living in the same country for the first time in ages. You should be there to show me around." He paused, then added, "I hear that Sunnydale is always in the market for new teachers."   
  
Doyle almost smiled. "I guess schools on a Hellmouth are prone to lose a few more teachers than most districts."   
  
"A half-demon would have more staying power," Aidan urged.   
  
Doyle laughed out loud at that. "A'right! I'm in. But I'll have to brush up on me skills."   
  
"I'm sure you can handle it," Aidan replied.   
  
The two shook on it. Doyle turned to see Cordelia staring at him. "Well, princess, looks like ye'll be seein' a bit more of me after all."   
  
She arched a shapely brow. "I'm just dying of anticipation." But something in her eyes belied the sarcastic tone of her voice.   
  
Doyle just laughed. "In Sunnydale, I hear ye never know."   
  
Just then the stewardess at the desk announced their flight's pre-boarding. People started moving toward the gate. Giles and Xander hung back. Buffy did, too. Sonya slowed her step and turned to face Xander.   
  
"So, Harris, just when we get our friendship back, you leave."   
  
"Nothing personal, Parker."   
  
She smiled briefly. "I know. Take care of you."   
  
"Ditto," Xander replied.   
  
They looked at each other for a minute, and then she turned to Giles. Sonya gave him a quick, fierce hug and then joined Oz in line just as the stewardess began to let them on the plane. Sonya didn't want to say goodbye to Giles again. Once was enough. Everyone but Buffy started to get on the plane.   
  
Buffy held back and looked at Giles. After a second, she gave him a hug, too. "Thanks, Giles, for everything."   
  
Giles pulled back and looked at her. "Training you was an honor. You are extremely gifted, Buffy. I know that you will go far."   
  
She smiled at him, and then began to tear up when she looked at Xander. Flying at him, she wrapped her arms around him as tightly as possible. Even after their kissing session in the garden she still felt like she could never get enough of him, and now he would be gone for who knew how long.   
  
"I'm going to miss you," she whispered through her tears.   
  
"Not as much as I'll miss you," Xander vowed.   
  
"I'll email you every day," Buffy promised.   
  
"Me, too," Xander said, crushing her to him for as long as she could.   
  
After a few moments, Giles cleared his throat. "Not to interrupt, but the stewardess is frowning at you."   
  
"I think the politically correct term nowadays is flight attendant," Xander joked weakly, but his arms didn't move from around Buffy.   
  
Finally, Buffy got her strength together. After everything she and Xander had been through, they could do this. A mere ocean would never keep them apart for long. She kissed him hard on the lips and then moved out of arm's length. "Do well, Xander. I know you can." Then she turned and ran up the jetway without looking back.   
  
Xander watched her go. "Goodbye, Buffy. I love you," he whispered.   
  
In the jetway, Buffy said softly, "I love you, Xander."   
  
"Excuse me?" the stewardess asked.   
  
"Nothing." Buffy hurried into her seat, and watched the airport out the window for as long as she could. Joyce patted her daughter's arm in sympathy, knowing words couldn't help anything right now.   
  
In the airport, Xander watched until the plane disappeared into the cloud-filled sky. Then he and Giles turned and walked away.   
  
The End 


End file.
